


Venture

by unicornball



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (Most likely) OOC Draco, AU, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Come play, Creature fic-, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Harry likes Draco's wings, M/M, Made up stuff about Veela, Magical Bonds, Male Slash, Male Veela, Mates, Mates and Bonds, Mpreg, Possible Mpreg, Scent Marking, Smut, Veela, Veela Draco, WIP, Wing Kink, mature language, mentions of mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:13:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 68,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornball/pseuds/unicornball
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <strong>Draco expects to have to work for what's his; not just anyone was destined for Harry Potter, after all. (Yeah, it's a Draco-Is-A-Veela-And-Harry-Potter-Is-His-Mate fic.)</strong>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Yeah, it's a Draco-Is-A-Veela-And-Harry-Potter-Is-His-Mate fic. I know... but I_ had _to. It wouldn't leave me alone. I probably took quite a few liberties with the Veela thing since canon is quite vague about the whole... thing. I think the whole Veela issue seems to have gotten way more attention in the fanfiction world... so, fair game I guess?_
> 
>  
> 
> _Enjoy. c:_

Harry Potter stared, trying to understand how and _why_ Draco Malfoy was on his front porch (with a strange glow about him that made him squint and cock his head every so often). Draco Malfoy, who was looking back at him with a calm, carefully blank face. Oddly, Malfoy's eyes weren't blank at all and that set off Harry's instincts more than the man's presence. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't look away from the intense, nearly glowing silvery-grey gaze.

Harry shifted his body so he was blocking the open door, a protective move that Draco noticed with a slight frown and an ever-so-slightly quirked eyebrow. He didn't offer any excuses, not feeling the need to explain himself. He really didn't want Teddy put in any kind of situation or to even see the blonde. And vice versa. He didn't actually feel threatened but he took no chances when it came to Teddy.

"I didn't know there were male Veela," he finally said, his response to Malfoy's first words of 'Potter. I'm a Veela'. It took him longer than he liked to come up with even that much and he wanted to wince at his inane comment but didn't. (He had long ago gotten used to Malfoy thinking he was an idiot; the blonde had accused him of it often enough.) Of _course_ there were male Veela, they'd be extinct otherwise. He meant he had never met one before but, naturally, that's not what came out of his mouth.

"Yes," was all Draco said, lips twitching with a suppressed smile. He took the opportunity to look Harry over, acknowledging only to himself (for the moment) the feeling of warmth, peace and _At last_ that settled over him as he did so. He, like most of the wizarding world, hadn't seen Harry in nearly 4 years.

The man disappeared shortly after the final battle. Harry had offered his testimony at a few trials (his family's included) and made a brief appearance at the big Ministry Ball that followed 2 weeks after the final trail. That was pretty much the last anyone saw of the wizard. He remembered Harry had looked embarrassed and pissed off nearly the entire time he spent at the Ball (but utterly, achingly, dashing in emerald and silver dress robes; the Slytherin colors, surprisingly, suited him) and he had been rather amused at Harry's reaction at the time.

Harry didn't look embarrassed or pissed off now, though. Only confused and a bit put out to be found. Especially, no doubt, by Draco.

Otherwise, as far as he could tell, Harry looked about the same: The same messy mop of black hair. The same brilliant green eyes dimmed a bit by stupid Muggle glasses—though, the frames were different; modern and complimentary to his handsome face. The same lithe, but short body (he mentally preened, some baser part of him delighting in the fact that Harry only came up to about the tip of his nose). The same subtle but powerful aura of magic that made his practically sing in response. It was refreshing, and oddly soothing, to see such familiar things after all the changes he had dealt with.

Harry tried not to glare at Malfoy's non-answer. "And you're telling _me_ this... why?" he asked, closing the door a bit more when he saw Draco's eyes flick over his shoulder. He knew Teddy was still watching cartoons but he didn't want there to be any chance of Malfoy... bothering him.

He went back to staring, wondering why Malfoy felt the bizarre need to turn up on his doorstep— _now_ , of all times—and tell him he was a Veela. He didn't think it was important. He didn't honestly care—he didn't even care to tease the man about not being so pure-blooded.

He wanted to smack his head against the doorjamb when he realized he had been eyeing the blonde up. Hopefully, it was subtle, but he doubted it. Malfoy was smirking at him and practically preening, the conceited arse.

"Who else is here?" Draco asked, ignoring Harry's question. He smirked briefly when he saw irritation flash across Harry's face. He quickly smoothed his face back out; he really didn't want to irritate Harry, even though it brought back feelings of _Before_ and made Harry's eyes almost spark in a very exciting way. He tried peeking around the other man's shoulder again and couldn't help glaring when Harry shifted again, blocking any view into the small, Muggle home. His eyes shifted back to Harry's and he stared, feeling a bit lost as he looked into the other man's green eyes.

Merlin; had they always been so bloody _green_ or mesmerizing?

"Teddy," Harry said after a moment. He pursed his lips, unsure why he blurted the answer out. "He lives with me now. His parents... well, after Andromeda fell ill, I adopted him." He had been terrified at the time. He hadn't known a thing about babies but his unwillingness for Teddy to wind up like he did (with uncaring guardians) or with strangers overrode any discomfort or fear he felt. His appointment of godfather (and possibly the title of The Bloody Savior) helped him get custody over some random stranger or a well-meaning couple. He had called himself all sorts of names during the brief period it took for them to get used to each other but he never regretted the decision.

Teddy inherited his mother's Metamorphmagus abilities (learning to control it better with age but still limited to only changing his hair and eye color) but didn't seem to have any negative characteristics from Remus; he got a bit cranky during the full moon and if his hair changed it was thicker.

Harry had consulted every healer that would see the little boy and every one had said there was no evidence of Lycanthropy in Teddy's blood. Not that it would have changed his mind about being his guardian or how he felt about Teddy. It wouldn't—he loved Teddy like his own. It would've only changed _how_ he took care of him.

Draco hummed, pleased. He _had_ sensed a child nearby. He wasn't proud to admit it but jealousy, pain and anger had rippled through him at the thought of Harry having a child with someone else. Little Teddy Lupin, while related to him distantly, was fine; he wasn't a child of Harry's by blood, only of the heart. He no longer cared about any 'impurities' the child might have in his blood from his father, long ago having ceased to care of such things.

He aimed a small smile at Harry, thrilling in the immediate unconscious reaction of a returned smile; even if it was only a small one or that Harry didn't seem aware he was doing it. Nonetheless, he wasn't too proud to let it warm him thoroughly.

"I see. That's... noble of you." He couldn't stop the smile from growing when Harry's eyes dipped down to his mouth and a light flush colored his cheeks. He nearly crooned with joy (and had to carefully stomp the urge to cup the warm skin) but kept it locked down. He knew Harry wouldn't react positively (actually, he'd probably react violently) at the moment. "May I come in or not?"

"Alright," Harry heard his mouth saying before his brain could process and answer with 'no' or 'bugger off' instead. He blinked, shocked at his words but didn't take them back. He didn't feel any threat from Malfoy, oddly enough. And if he tried anything, he was confident he was faster than the blonde. He slowly backed up and held the door open for Malfoy, watching with slightly narrowed eyes as the Veela walked past him and into his home, his blonde head swiveling and taking in everything with a look of naked interest on his face.

"What do you want?" he asked, closing the door. The earlier feeling of irritation was no longer prevalent; now it was curiosity.

Draco looked around, ignoring Harry's question. He followed his senses to the small living room, his eyes darting around as he looked around. His eyes stopped and took in the small child on a large pillow that was placed on the floor. The little boy was lying on his belly, chin propped in his cupped hands, his knees bent so his feet were up and kicking occasionally as he watched a flickering box several feet in front of him. He looked to be about 4 and his hair was an identical mess to the one sitting atop Harry's head. He didn't bother getting Teddy's attention, sure the child's attention was firmly on the glowing device, anyway.

He just looked around the room again. It was small but welcoming. He actually liked it, but kept the opinion to himself since he didn't think Harry would care to hear what he thought.

He looked over his shoulder to see Harry giving him a heavy, speculative look. "Aren't you going to offer me tea?"

"No," Harry said, annoyance making a reappearance. He huffed when Malfoy only stared at him, a pale eyebrow crawling upwards, and threw his hands up. "Fine." He turned on his heel and tried not to stomp towards the kitchen in a childish snit.

Stupid Malfoy, coming into his home and demanding stupid tea like this was some stupid _social_ call. He didn't want to be reminded of manners or some other polite shit one did with guests in their home. Unwanted guests shouldn't be given tea, right? He jumped when he realized he wasn't alone in the kitchen and flushed, reaching for the mugs as he set the kettle on. He hadn't expected Malfoy to follow him into the kitchen...

"Are you going to tell me what the hell you want?"

Draco hummed and just watched Harry make tea. He smiled as he saw the other man doing it the Muggle way. Probably in an effort to eat up time and divert his attention. "I _will_ , yes. Just not yet," he finally said, his gaze practically glued to the other man.

He took the moment to enjoy way Harry's t-shirt rode up ( _oh_ , and revealed a lovely strip of lightly tanned skin that he ached to feel against his fingertips or his tongue) and how his back muscles flexed and bunched when the shorter man reached up to a tall cabinet for something. He unconsciously ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his fingers twitching a little when he could just make out twin dimples right along the waistline of Harry's pants.

Oh dear sweet Merlin.

He walked over, trying not to chuckle, when he realized Harry couldn't reach what he was looking for. Before the man could whip out his wand and levitate the item down, he placed one hand on the small of Harry's back while the other effortlessly plucked the box of biscuits from the shelf. He handed it over, enjoying the flush on Harry's cheeks again. He didn't remove his hand from where it was on Harry's back, and he probably wouldn't until Harry made him. The simple touch sent his senses reeling and he fought a flush of his own.

It almost felt surreal, feeling the warmth of Harry under his palm and for a wild moment he felt the urge to pinch himself.

"Here you are," he said quietly, his hand still on the box, smiling a little at a still blushing Harry.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled and dumped the biscuits onto a plate. He didn't shift away from the hand on his back yet. It was warm and comforting. Which was so fucking weird because... well, it was _Malfoy's_. After a moment, he cleared his throat and stepped away, immediately missing the warmth as the hand slid slowly across his back and returned to Malfoy's side. He hastily threw tea in the steaming water and stared, watching the water darken and the tea bits sink.

He looked up and blinked when he saw Malfoy watching him intently. "What?"

Draco shook his head and backed up a step, giving in to Harry's silent plea for space. "I have a lot to say. Are you able to speak?"

"I guess," Harry said and shrugged one shoulder. "Teddy's rumbling belly will bring him looking for a snack, but not for another half hour or so. Is that enough time?" He didn't want Teddy interrupting, mostly because the little boy still asked too many questions. About _everything_. He had no answers yet and he didn't even know where to begin should he be asked anything.

Draco frowned lightly. "I really don't know... I suppose it depends on how you react," he said honestly. He resisted the urge to worry his lip or wring his hands, but it was a close thing. So much depended on Harry not rejecting him... His stomach cramped and his chest ached unpleasantly at the thought.

"Me? What do I have to do with it?" Harry asked, trying not to sound annoyed. Or curious. He turned around again and made himself busy finishing the tea. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Malfoy moved over to the small kitchen table and sat down, even though he still felt the blonde's gaze on him like a physical weight. Being near him had been... odd. Unsettling but not at the same time.

He shook his head, trying to clear it and focused on the tea. "Sugar?" he mumbled at Malfoy, already knowing the answer. He spent a fair amount of time watching the blonde (mostly in sixth year) but he didn't want it be obvious he knew how Draco took his tea. It seemed a bit... creepy, now that he thought about it.

Draco waited until Harry looked up and grinned. "Honey, please," he said, squishing amusement (and a tiny flair of _want_ ) at the silly idea they were using cutesy pet-names. He watched, warmth spreading through him, as Harry upended a Muggle bear-shaped, plastic honey bottle over his tea for about three seconds and stirred it twice. He had been sure Harry knew how he liked his tea and he was ridiculously pleased to be proven right.

He watched as Harry picked up both mugs and walked over, sitting across from him. He took the second mug, letting his fingers brush Harry's before the other man could let go. He watched closely for any reaction and smiled slightly when Harry flushed again and jerked his hand away as soon as he was clear of the mug. He hid a smug smirk, again pleased that Harry didn't just let the steaming tea slop out onto him or even dump it over his head (or in his lap). He absently tapped the rim of his mug, propping his chin in his palm and contented himself with watching Harry again. The other man was trying to ignore him and was focusing on blowing on his tea.

"What?" Harry asked, not looking up. He could feel Malfoy looking at him _again_ and it made him want to squirm around in his seat. Not exactly from discomfort either. He scowled into his tea. He hadn't seen Malfoy in years and even then they had never really gotten along. Sure, they had made peace, of sorts, after the trials but it wasn't exactly a friendship; it more or less a mutual agreement not to hex the other like immature prats anymore. Now the git had practically barged into his home and was sitting there _staring_ at him. It was unnerving and annoying! Rude, too, probably. He should probably point that out, remind Malfoy of his manners.

"Are you going to tell me what the fuck you're doing here?" he finally hissed, looking up and not letting the scowl leave his face.

Draco cleared his throat and slowly nodded. "Alright, since you've no patience left—" he said softly. He took a long sip of his tea, wincing a bit when he realized it was still a bit too hot. "I'm a Veela."

"I know that already," Harry ground out, feeling his patience stretching even thinner. "You said that instead of 'hello' earlier." He tapped a fingernail on the side of his mug, impatience and true curiosity warring and squirming through him. _What_ was Malfoy doing here?

Draco pursed his lips and nodded slowly. "What do you know of Veela?" he asked instead. He really didn't know how much he needed to explain. He knew Harry wasn't stupid, regardless of how the man acted on occasion, and he didn't fancy the idea of going over things Harry might already know and risk irritating the man (or wasting rather precious time with him).

Also, he was curious. Not many outside of the Veela communities knew much about the secretive beings. He was only a quarter Veela and he had learned what he could from his father (he shivered slightly as he remembered those horrible first visits to Azkaban). His instincts and Veela blood were quite strong (strong enough to fulfill the mate requirement, anyway) but not as _separate_ as others with more Veela in their blood explained their natures to be.

He rarely felt his inner nature _speak_ to him as if a separate entity, it was just there; he didn't feel controlled or manipulated. At best he felt a gentle nudging, as if by innate instinct, that he could almost dismiss as his own thought process. He could also 'display' (as embarrassing at _that_ was) but generally only with a strong emotional reaction.

He wondered if Harry would ever cause (or want) him to display his Veela side and the idea brought simultaneous feelings of want and apprehension. He would love the chance to show off but he feared Harry would react negatively. People either feared or lusted after the Veela form and he was quite unsure which reaction Harry would have. It was all very unsettling.

"Not a lot," Harry admitted after a long, thoughtful pause. "Bill married a quarter Veela. Do you remember Fleur, from the Tri-Wizard nightmare?" Draco shrugged, waving his hand in a vague gesture. "Well, anyway, neither she or Bill would share much about her being a Veela. They didn't discuss it and got... defensive when someone asked," he mused, staring off.

Fleur and Bill had been very reluctant to get into more detail about Fleur's Veela nature. The couple had gone from politely dissuading questions to ignoring them. At one point Fleur had glared icily and refused with a sharply worded reply in French (that wasn't hard for anyone to translate) and left the room. He had learned not to ask about it when Bill had politely told him he wasn't to know. Hermione, on the other hand, had been a bit more hard headed and Fleur almost gutted her. Fleur was rarely a pleasant person and got downright nasty when she wasn't completely content, which was hard to maintain. He had let his curiosity go rather easily, just leaving it at Veela being secretive about themselves and moving on.

He had a feeling he should've pushed a bit more...

Harry shrugged one shoulder and fiddled with his mug handle. "All I really know is they're a sort of magical creature, ooze sex appeal—like an allure. Uh, they're generally quite magically powerful and they've got predestined mates." He paused but didn't have anything else to add so he just shrugged again and took a long swallow of his tea, looking at Malfoy over the rim of his mug.

Most of that he had pieced together from books (which didn't contain much at all), watching the way he had seen a few Veela interact and react to others. He also knew Veela were nearly psychotic when it came to their mates but didn't add that bit, unsure if it was wise to mention it. He had nearly gotten shred to ribbons when he had hugged Bill at his wedding. Apparently, his interest in other males was the only reason Fleur had only reacted that way to him. He hadn't lingered but wisely kept his distance the rest of the day, keeping one eye on Fleur whenever he could.

Draco nodded slowly, a bit surprised Harry knew that much. He didn't miss the way green eyes narrowed at him, Harry's last words echoing loudly in his mind. He licked his lips, feeling nerves suddenly flood him. He had managed to show up and knock on Harry's door only because he had still been riding the euphoric excitement at having finally found him to feel the nerves too badly.

But now, sitting in Harry's cozy little kitchen with the man's green eyes narrowed at him, his magic slowly becoming a suffocating presence, he felt strangled by those returning nerves. He couldn't speak. He raised a finger and took another long swallow of tea, nearly choking as the hot liquid tried to flow past the lump in his throat.

He slowly put the mug down, watching as it lightly rested on the table. He didn't look up just yet, still feeling rattled and a bit breathless, and wished desperately for composure. This was one of the times he cursed his Veela nature—he was an absolute wreck merely because he was sitting across from Harry and he couldn't control it as well his Malfoy upbringing demanded.

Harry watched all of this with growing wonder and trepidation. He didn't want to think about why Malfoy had sought him out. He didn't want to think about why Malfoy was suddenly looking like he was going to vomit from nerves or possibly pass out. Or run away. He certainly didn't want to think about why he didn't want to hex or punch the pale arsehole either. His brows furrowed in confusion.

"Is that why you're here?" he finally asked, watching as pale, long fingers tightened around the flowery mug and whitened. "Malfoy?"

"Harry, I need a moment," Draco whispered. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, focusing on his breathing. He _could_ just nod, Harry seemed to have figured it out, but he didn't want to be that coward anymore. Harry was brave and strong and deserved strength back. It might only be the Veela nature urging him, but he doubted it; he was a man, too, and he wanted to prove his worth and strength. He _was_ worthy—he just needed to show it.

Harry sat, blinking, for long moments. He'd never heard the man call him anything but 'Potter' before and it was... surprising. It effectively shut him up, too. He obediently stayed quiet, sipping his cooling tea and gave Malfoy the moment he asked for. "Alright," he said after he noticed the death grip on the mug slackened and Malfoy's shoulders were looser. "As nice as this is—" He paused as he realized how true that was; they hadn't been reduced to petty name calling or immature jinxes once. He cleared his throat when Malfoy looked up at that, a strange warmth in his pale grey eyes, and waved a hand. "Continue."

"Alright," Draco sighed. "I'm a Veela," he grinned and made a soft shushing noise when Harry glared. "And yes, there _are_ male Veela. Veela are highly secretive beings." Harry nodded and he gave a pleased, small smile. "Male Veela, even more so. Believe it or not, males are less willing to flaunt themselves like female Veela. We attract both sexes and tend to prefer... subtly."

He really didn't understand the myth of only women being Veela—they'd have died out ages ago if that were so. Sure, Veela willingly mated with wizards (and even Muggles in rare cases) but they were just as likely to bond with another Veela. And it didn't matter how much Veela blood one had, even those with Veela many generations back were proudly accepted as Veela.

Draco softly cleared his throat, preparing for the next part. "First, I feel the need to apologize to you."

Harry gaped. He couldn't help it. "What for?" he blurted. He could think of _many_ reasons for an apology but he had never really expected one. Plus, he wanted to see what Malfoy would consider apology-worthy.

"Oh, Harry," Draco said with equal parts affection, regret and sadness. "Lots of things." He nodded when Harry only sat there, gaping at him. "I suppose I could start at the beginning?" Harry only sat there, stunned, so he nodded as if he'd gotten some kind of answer. "I apologize for being an utter spoiled git when I first met you. For being a spoiled little git that then had a mission to make you miserable ever after for befriending the Weasel and not me," he paused and smiled when Harry blinked. Surprise was clear and he wasn't sure if it was for openly admitting to being jealous of one Ronald Weasley or for admitting to being an utter arse. Probably both... Which was fair and understandable. "Well, I suppose that really covers most of it—For being a monumental prat. For everything."

He would go hoarse if he had to sit and list each and every offense, apologizing for it. He would, though, if that was what Harry required.

He hadn't known until much later, right after his inheritance and the subsequent revelation of his mate's identity, how badly he had misjudged Harry. Naturally, enough unauthorized biographies of the Savior had come out after the war to give Draco a better picture of Harry's life. There were enough half-truths and repeated facts for him to piece together something that resembled reality. And he had later asked a reliable source. He had never realized how terrible Harry's childhood had been; firmly believing that the Golden Boy's guardians had loved and cherished him, lavishing him with gifts and love. (It shamed him even now how completely he had gone along with Professor Snape's biased thinking, not even bothering to think for himself.)

Of course, if he had actually paid attention in school he would have seen right away how wrong that was. He hadn't, of course. He was quite self-absorbed and arrogant as a boy, much as it shamed him to admit. The dark-haired, skinny little boy had always worn hand-me-down clothing and didn't really settle until a week into school; finally eating small but full meals, his drawn, pale face slowly smoothing out as he relaxed (as if re-learning how to smile or laugh) and the color returning to his cheeks with rest and warmth and smiling at his friends.

Draco also knew a few details about what sort of 'adventures' Harry got into nearly every year at school. When he found out, he had been horrified and enraged at the thought of his young mate being put into such dangerous situations and failed so spectacularly by every single adult at Hogwarts. Mischief was one thing but allowing a child to risk his life (and his friends' lives) repeatedly was... unforgivable. He also blamed his own former Head of House, knowing Severus had been as aware as any other adult and turned a blind eye simply because he held a grudge against the boy's _dead father_.

He calmed his breathing with an effort, unwilling to have Harry misunderstand his anger. He didn't want the other man to think it was directed at him. He gazed across the table with an earnest expression, waiting for Harry's reaction. He didn't know how to take the slightly wide eyes and stiff posture, so he patiently waited (even if he had the smallest urge to throw himself on the floor at Harry's feet and beg).

"I don't know what to say, Malfoy," Harry finally said after sitting there for Merlin alone knew how long, just staring at the blonde. He saw no deception, no insincerity, no hidden ulterior motives. Only sorrow and true remorse. He didn't want to think about why—His mind firmly shut the door on _that_ train of thought. He saw Malfoy's shoulders sag a bit more and a look of sadness grow, pinching his pale features.

Draco sighed, trying to understand Harry's point of view. Harry hadn't spent the last few years pining for a lost mate. The only thing that kept him sane and away from death was the absence of outright rejection. Harry probably hadn't given him a second thought, at least not a second _pleasant_ thought.

"You could say you accept my apology... or tell me to piss off," he finally said, trying to smile at the last part as if he were making a joke. He only sort of was—it was, after all, an option.

"I—" Harry paused and his brows furrowed. He really wanted to tell Malfoy to fuck off, take his apology and shove it up his arse. Sideways. But, he didn't want to even more. It was a sincere apology, heartfelt even. He'd be an even bigger prat for not accepting it, wouldn't he? He only had to look into the pale grey eyes and see the sincerity. He slowly nodded, even if he didn't know _why_. As much as he wanted to avoid the reason, his damn curiosity got the better of him.

Why the sudden need to find him? Why was Malfoy being... nice? Why the apologies? It completely threw anything he thought he knew about the blonde out the window.

"Why?" Harry asked after a long silence.

Draco cocked his head a bit in confusion. "Why what?"

"Why apologize to me? Why _now_? Why do you suddenly feel the need to apologize to me for being a right bastard and making my life harder than it already was?" Harry asked quietly, firmly ignoring the tilt of Malfoy's head that his brain wanted to label 'adorable'.

Draco's lips pinched at the reminder but rolled his shoulders, loosening them. He could do this.

"You deserve the apology, Harry. I give it now because I've finally been able to give it to you, face to face. I... I've been looking for you, for years. I finally got the chance and needed to see you." He paused and took a deep breath, smothering the urge to cover Harry's hand with his to show his sincerity... and to just touch. He moved his hand to his lap and clenched it tightly when his palm tingled with the need to touch; now was not the time to test Harry's patience.

"I needed to do it because... I can't— I want you to look past our past and see me. Now."

"Why?" Harry asked again, his fingers tightening around his own mug.

Draco sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. _He could do this._ "Because you're my mate."


	2. Chapter 2

Teddy looked up with a surprised start when he heard Harry-daddy shout from the kitchen. He scrambled up from his pillow, cartoons momentarily forgotten, and hurried into the kitchen. He paused when he saw a strange blonde man sitting at their table across from Harry-daddy but didn't pay him much mind. Obviously, he wasn't here to hurt them or he wouldn't have been let inside or been made tea. He looked a little scared, anyway; all pale and trembly.

"Harry-daddy?" he asked, stepping closer and looking up at Harry with wide concerned eyes. Usually he kept them a light brown, like his real daddy's, but sometimes they changed. Like now; they were a matching sparkling green. That always made Harry-daddy feel better and smile. "You 'K?"

"Yeah, Teddy," Harry said and pulled Teddy into his lap when the child's arms went up in a silent bid to be picked up. He ruffled the matching head of messy black hair and tried to smile at the little boy. "I didn't mean to yell, I was... uh, surprised," he said and sent a quick glare across the table. A sheepish, but unapologetic, small smile was his only answer. He looked away, unwilling to respond to such a look, especially in front of Teddy. He would either yell or do something embarrassing.

"Did you want your snack now?" he asked, focusing back on Teddy.

Teddy looked between Harry-daddy and the stranger before nodding, feeling his tummy gurgle quietly at the word 'snack'. He was hungry. "You having snacks, too?" he asked, looking between both adults before sliding off of Harry-daddy's lap and climbing onto his own chair that was across from Harry-daddy and next to the stranger. He smiled his thanks when his booster seat was adjusted by Harry-daddy and he folded his hands on the table, waiting politely for his snack. Normally, he would just kneel on his chair and chatter as Harry-daddy got his snack ready but they had company and that meant Good Manners.

"I'd like that" Draco answered before Harry could. It would probably be a 'no' if it were up to the other man and he didn't want to be kicked out, not without having a chance to plead his case. Harry's surprised shout of outrage (well, shocked incredulity) was painful enough without being tossed out on his arse, unable to explain further.

"What are we having?" he asked, looking at Teddy but his question was directed at Harry.

Teddy's eyes morphed into a matching pale silvery grey, his hair still the messy black mop that matched Harry's, and Draco nearly crooned with glee, thinking the child next to him looked like he could be his and Harry's. He smoothed a hand down his shirt, hoping the motion appeared as if he were smoothing wrinkles and not calming himself. It was way too soon (and quite presumptuous) to even think of such things. Harry only seemed to be tolerating his presence out of manners, it seemed rather a far off notion to be imagining having children with the other man.

Draco peeked a quick look at Harry from the corner of his eye and sighed softly with relief when he noticed the other man was making three plates. He didn't care what was on them, he was just relieved he wasn't being kicked out.

Harry tried not to scowl or yell at Malfoy and focused on making the sandwiches. "PB and F sandwiches," he muttered. He sullenly wondered if Malfoy was allergic to peanuts and had to squish the twin urges of hope and horror at the very idea. He gripped the butter knife tightly, annoyed and confused by his own confused thoughts and everything that had happened since he opened that damn door. Damn stupid Malfoy... Damn stupid _Veela_ Malfoy.

"Yay!" Teddy shouted, throwing a fist in the air, before quickly settling down again. He shot an apologetic look at Harry-daddy; he didn't mean to shout with company over. He only got a smile and a head shake, his excitement understood. He giggled and looked to the blonde stranger. "That means peanut butter and fluff," he explained when the blonde man only looked confused and a bit wary.

He tilted his head a little. "Who're you?" he asked, not recognizing the man at all. Harry-daddy didn't have a lot of friends and he thought he had met them all. Aunt Hermione and aunt Luna were his favorites, followed by his twin uncles Fred and George; they always brought him fun magic things (even though it was usually taken away and 'saved' by Harry-daddy before he even got to get a good look at it). Uncle Ron was fun too, but he always ate all the good snacks. So not cool.

Draco cleared his throat, looking at Harry. He nearly pouted when the other man made no indication he had heard the question, leaving him to talk to the small child on his own. "I'm Draco Malfoy," he said, sticking his hand out. He smiled when Teddy took it with a look of surprised awe, his little chest puffing out with pride at doing something 'grown up' before shock registered on the little boy's face.

"You are?" Teddy gasped, his pale grey eyes widening and quickly shifting to a mellow amber. The quick change fascinated Draco. He wondered if the child could control it or if it was simply an emotional response. "I heard about you," Teddy said quietly, a hint of anger and scorn in his soft voice as he let go of the larger hand he'd been shaking.

He looked to Harry-daddy with concern. He had heard about Draco Malfoy and he was confused why the man was allowed to be sitting in their kitchen having snack with them. He was a mean prat. At least that what he had always heard when uncles Fred and George (or _any_ of Harry-daddy's friends, really) mentioned the name 'Malfoy'.

"Why're you here?" Teddy asked, his tone a bit rude. Harry tsked and gave him a pointed look as his plate was placed in front of him, his sandwich cut up into four triangles like he liked and his bunch of grapes a safe distance away so they didn't make anything soggy. He shifted his cup closer, careful not to bring it too close to the edge of the table even though Harry-daddy always spelled it to be spill proof. "Sorry," he mumbled.

He was only a _little_ sorry. He didn't mean to sound rude but he didn't want to be nice to a mean man, either. Especially not if he was going to be mean to his Harry-daddy. He ignored his snack in favor of glaring at Mr. Malfoy, waiting for him to answer. And it better be a good one.

Harry sighed and slid a plate in front of Malfoy before sitting down. "Mind your manners, Teddy," he reminded gently.

So far, Teddy had been doing wonderfully. He hadn't needed to remind the four-year-old of his manners until now, which didn't happen often. Pride and affection easily erased any feelings of disappointment, though. It wasn't like Teddy was completely out of line to ask, but he had to remember to enforce good manners always, not conveniently forget them when confronted with certified gits. Even if it was tempting.

"Mr. Malfoy is here because he wanted to talk to me," Harry said, his voice somewhere between chiding, stern and warm all at the same time. He nodded at Teddy's plate, indicating he should eat. "What did I say about being mean to people?"

"That it's not nice and we shouldn't do it," Teddy recited dutifully, managing not to add an eye roll, but his nose wrinkled adorably. He had gotten that lecture the first time he had hit Victoire. She deserved it for taking his toy but Harry-daddy had insisted there weren't any good reasons to hit people (especially girls) or be mean to them. "He was mean first," he said, pointing a small finger accusingly at Draco. He blinked when the man actually hung his head a bit and looked contrite.

Harry sighed and lowered Teddy's hand, a stern look on his face. "Do not point, it's rude. And that's not the point. Being mean to someone who's mean to you isn't the proper way to go about it. Right?"

"Yeah," Teddy grumbled. He knew that, too. "Be nice," he mubled before taking a big bite of his sandwich and gave a cheeky, marshmallow fluff smeared grin as his hair and eyes morphed to match Harry-daddy's once more.

Harry chuckled and ruffled Teddy's hair. He adored when Teddy mimicked him. "Exactly, Cub."

Teddy beamed at the affectionate nick-name and went back to his sandwich, kicking his feet lightly and watching Mr. Malfoy as he munched on his sandwich and grapes. He saw him looking at Harry-daddy oddly but not in a mean way like he had expected. "Why're you here?" he asked again, his voice polite this time. "Harry-daddy wouldn't let you in if you're mean, right?" he asked, cocking his head a little and narrowing his eyes.

"I had to talk to Harry," Draco said, nodding solemnly, eyeing said man briefly as he spoke. "About something important." He was being ignored by the wizard, Harry's attention solely on his own sandwich. He nibbled his and was surprised to find it was extremely tasty and took another bite, soon finding it hard to stop eating. He didn't know what fluff was but he adored it. It was sweet and sticky (and no doubt Muggle since he'd never heard of it before). "And, you are correct, young sir; I have no intentions of being mean," he added after swallowing the sticky mess down with several gulps of cooling tea.

Harry harrumphed softly and snorted under his breath. He ignored the questioning looks from Malfoy and Teddy, though. He nearly sulked when he was quickly ignored, Teddy and Malfoy continuing on in their conversation and completely ignoring his presence. Apparently, once Malfoy said he wasn't going to be mean, Teddy had no more reservations towards the blonde and quickly went into chatterbox mode.

Harry didn't try to butt in though, oddly content (after getting over his initial urge to pout) to watch the two interact. It was nice to see Teddy take to a stranger and it was even nicer to see that Malfoy was human (er... Veela?) enough to be nice to a kid. The smile the blonde occasionally sent the little boy was small but genuine and warm.

Not many people interested in him spoke with Teddy. And even if they did it wasn't with such warmth and enthusiasm, most merely putting up with Teddy as a way to get to him. Some just completely ignored the little boy, especially after they learned he was adopted. And who his father was. It irked Harry to no end and he rarely had further contact with such people. Malfoy (maybe he should be mature and go with _Draco_ , with the whole mate thing and all) was speaking to Teddy, answering his questions and asking his own when Teddy stopped talking long enough to allow him to answer.

Harry stared, trying not to gape stupidly, when Draco's head went back and the blonde laughed with delight, hands holding his stomach, at whatever Teddy had said. He swallowed with a bit of difficulty, trying to tell himself he was not at all affected by the sight. Draco did not look handsome... or ethereal... or sexy with that light flush to his cheeks and mirth dancing in his grey eyes. He shifted in his seat and blinked owlishly when both Teddy and Draco turned to look at him with expectant expressions.

Oh, Merlin. Was he blushing? Why were they looking at him? What did he miss? "What?" he muttered, trying not to fidget and ignoring an infuriatingly knowing smirk on the blonde's face.

"Can Mr. Draco stay for dinner?" Teddy repeated, politely, his hair a matching pale Malfoy-blonde. He saw Harry-daddy thinking it over and when he thought he might hear 'no', he widened his eyes, shifted them to a bright green and blinked them furiously in a move that was almost never denied. He saved the puppy-eyes for important battles. Like this. "Please," he said, drawing out the first 'e' and clasping his hands in front of him, completing the picture of 'begging Teddy' that Harry-daddy rarely said no to. He didn't see Mr. Draco's amused smirk or approving nod.

Harry glared at Draco, feeling this was _his_ fault somehow, before looking back at Teddy. His resolve was already wobbly when Teddy's eyes went grass green, the added groveling and clasped hands did him in and he hung his head a little, feeling weak and smitten at the same time. He hated denying Teddy anything, especially when it was something he couldn't think of a single rational reason to say no to.

"Alright," he said finally, swallowing the resigned sigh that wanted to come out as well. He tried not to wince when Teddy whooped excitedly and he glared at Draco again, wondering what the man did to make Teddy want him to stay. He mentally cursed; he should have paid more attention to their conversation. He shooed Teddy from the room after another few minutes, making sure his plate was empty.

As soon as Teddy streaked out of the kitchen, Draco turned to Harry and nodded expectantly. "Alright." He crooked his fingers in a 'bring it on' gesture and sat rigidly, yet calmly somehow, in his seat.

"Alright what?" Harry asked, frowning. He didn't think he had asked anything.

Draco sighed and leaned back in his chair, waving his hands in a 'let's go' gesture again. "Yell at me. I know you want to."

"I don't want to yell at you. I want to ask what the hell you're doing."

Draco ran a hand over his face, sliding it around the rub the back of his neck for a moment in a show of nerves. "I want... Well, I want to spend time with you. Both of you" he added, his eyes briefly flicking to the door Teddy had walked (well, _ran_ ) through. The little boy's exuberance wasn't as tiresome or annoying as he first thought it would be. It actually made him want to smile. "Teddy is important to you, so I want to get to know him as well."

He had been told as much from Hermione but he only had to see the two interact to realize it for himself. He wasn't stupid enough to be rude to the man's son and it was a bonus the little boy was personable and quite charming. It wasn't exactly going to be a hardship to spend time with the child. He was already starting to feel a little protective of him; he didn't know if it was the Veela nature or the distant blood relation they shared, but he didn't think it mattered. Especially not when Harry gave him that pleasantly surprised expression, a small smile flitting across his lips.

"No fucking way," Harry muttered, his voice colored heavily with disbelief and tinged with refusal. He did not want Teddy being used. When Draco gave him a hurt look, a pale hand rubbing at his chest in an undoubtedly unconscious gesture, he sighed.

"Look, you have to see how bizarre this is. From my perspective." Draco, reluctantly, nodded. "I haven't seen you since graduation. And before that? We were never friendly. You went out of your way to make me miserable," he added, feeling like a petty arse for mentioning it again but unable to resist. He knew it was a two-way street, but it seemed Draco and his cronies sought him out and he merely reacted in most instances.

"I can only think of one time when you were sort of nice to me," he said, thinking about the horrible day he had been captured with his friends and brought to Malfoy Manor. He knew the blonde recognized him, even with his face warped and swollen, and he had lied for him. He still didn't know if it was for his benefit or Draco's and most times he didn't care since it worked out for everyone's benefit in the end. He saw Draco flinch and resisted the urge to comfort the blonde, annoyed the urge was even there.

"You're expecting me to just... What? Forget nearly a decade of rivalry?" And bitterness and hatred, he didn't add.

Draco sighed again and leaned forward, his fingers dragging through his hair as he cupped his head in his hands. No, he didn't really expect that. He had hoped... but he hadn't _expected_ it. "No," he said quietly, misery tinting the single word. "I had hoped..." He looked up, the words trailing off. He had hoped Harry could forgive and move on. It was a lot to ask, he _knew_ that, but he didn't think it was impossible. Not for Harry, anyway. The man was too good-natured to be that unforgiving or cruel; at least, he hoped so.

It seemed rather foolish to expect Harry to be some super-human, but he had.

"Draco—" Harry paused, starting a bit when Draco's head whipped up to pin him with an intense stare. He tried to ignore the heated look he was being given, figuring Draco would be mortified if he realized he was doing it, and he cleared his throat. "I don't know what you want me to say... To do..."

Draco dropped his head back into his palms. He still felt pleasure and warmth tingling through him from hearing his name come out of Harry's mouth. It was ridiculous that something so simple should affect him so, but it didn't at all reduce the reaction. He wanted to close his eyes and savor the feeling.

"I want a chance," he said quietly, mumbling into his palms. He winced, practically hearing his mother _and_ father's voice in his head chiding him for such appalling actions. "I know it's a lot to ask, even of you, but please," he said looking up and giving Harry the most honest, pleading look he could. He wished he had the ability little Teddy did; he was not above using any advantage if it would help sway the other man. "Just... give me a chance?"

"I don't know..." Harry said softly, looking Draco over as he spoke. He saw the blonde's shoulders tense again, obviously expecting rejection. The hand was back rubbing at Draco's chest in slow circles. "What happens if I say no?" he asked, realizing such a thing would probably be bad for the Veela. He needed to know, though. He didn't think it was wise to admit, just now, that the urge to say 'no' was nearly negligible. He really didn't want to. But saying 'yes' was an equally terrifying thought.

Draco slid down in his chair, any care for proper posture and his stupid pride gone. "I'd die," he said simply, shrugging one shoulder. He looked over at Harry, trying to keep the plea from his voice and eyes. "I don't want that to factor into how you'd react, though. Honestly, I _don't_ ," he said firmly, knowing how stupidly brave and selfless Harry could be. He didn't have a death wish but he also didn't want Harry to agree out of some pea-brained idea of nobility or a skewed sense of 'rightness' or 'duty'.

It was nearly painful to admit it (and he shouldn't care; he should just take any excuse and happily claim Harry like any normal Veela) but they both deserved this to be mutual—well, as mutual as possible on his end. He had long gotten used to the idea of Harry being his mate; the more he learned about the man, the more he had _wanted_. It only seemed fair for Harry to have the same chance to get to know him and get used to the idea as well. To want him as well. Surprisingly, he'd rather die than force Harry to be his mate.

He briefly felt like a stupid Gryffindor (or _worse_ ; a fluffy, gooey-hearted Hufflepuff), but it was true nonetheless. He just knew he wouldn't be able take a life-time of being 'put up with' or resented. Relying on the possibility that Harry might, maybe, hopefully, someday years down the road possibly grow to love him just made him shudder in revulsion and denial. It was undoubtedly the first and only time his Malfoy upbringing was able to trump his Veela instinct. Simply put, he wanted to be wanted.

"I want to be worthy of you... Of such a mate."

Harry blinked a few times, rapidly. He was trying to take in both the words and the sincere expression on Draco's face. It was a lot to process all at once. "I see," he murmured, feeling vaguely unsettled.

He looked away from the intense gaze; feeling a little uncomfortable to be looked at like some great thing or with such open, but unwarranted, adoration. He knew Veela mated for life, so the decision was not something to be taken lightly. As much as Draco Malfoy irritated him, he didn't want the man to _die_. The very idea made his palms sweat and a deep ache to settle in his chest. He nearly groaned; having any reaction _at all_ wasn't a good sign.

"I'm not saying no, but..." Harry trailed off, unsure. "I can't really say yes right now, either." Draco straightened in his chair, hope brightening his features. He had to look away again, the ache in his chest immediately morphing into something else he didn't want to recognize or name right now.

Draco nodded, hope radiating out of him in a nearly visible aura. He had no options with 'no'. A 'maybe' was more than he could ask for and he wouldn't waste the chance. He almost expected Harry to have felt 'trapped' and immediately deny him from a stubborn, hot headed knee jerk reaction.

"Alright, I can respect that. I'm— I can't thank you enough for a chance, Harry," he said sincerely, barely restraining the urge to touch the wizard. He sat up straighter and his voice dropped into a serious tone, "I'll court you. I'll do this properly. I don't expect anything right away."

"Court me?" Harry choked out. What he knew of courting procedures could fill a pamphlet. A very small, one sided, pamphlet. All he really knew was it was lengthy and archaic, incredibly proper and full of traditions he probably wouldn't understand. He hadn't a clue if the process was different when dealing with a Veela, either. He shot a wary look at the suddenly bright-eyed blonde.

Draco nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, Harry. I'll court you. Woo you. _Prove_ to you I'll be a worthy mate." He paused and cocked his head, heat sizzling through him when he saw a pink tint on Harry's cheeks. It wasn't entirely from embarrassment, not with the way Harry's pupils dilated slightly. "Would you like that, Harry?" he asked, his voice between a soft croon and a purr. He suppressed a shiver of desire when the pink darkened and grew to color Harry's neck as green eyes darkened a little more.

Well that was a very encouraging reaction. He felt extremely lucky he had a very appealing mate. It didn't at all hurt he had been attracted to Harry before knowing they were destined mates. All the better, in his opinion. He felt even more grateful at the real possibility that Harry was attracted to him in return. He could cultivate that, he was sure of it.

"Sounds fair," Harry said, trying to fight the blush he felt warming his cheeks. He felt like an awkward teenager, getting all... fluttery from the idea of being courted and wooed. By a Veela Draco Malfoy. Oh Merlin... "How— Uhm... What does it entail?"

Draco shifted his seat, moving it across the floor to be closer to Harry. He wasn't being rejected, Harry agreed to be courted and he couldn't suppress the urge to be closer even if he had wanted merely looked at him with open curiosity and he felt a little better.

"Well, the first step is you agree. Then we go on chaperoned outings; 'dates' if you like. I give you gifts at significant times. Like now," he said and pulled a small box from his pocket. He saw a tiny smile flit across Harry's face briefly before a frown creased his brows but even that was quickly hidden as well. Brief or not, that smile lit his world. _He_ had done that— _he_ had made Harry smile.

"I can't— No, you don't have to give me gifts," Harry said, eyeing the shrunken box even as he spoke. Part of him was curious, naturally, but he still wasn't used to getting gifts (and usually he got them for set occasions and from people he cared about, people that cared about him). It was incredibly odd to wrap his mind around the fact that Draco Malfoy cared about him enough to give him a gift. Well... cared about him because of his Veela instincts. He looked up at the blonde, ready to refuse again since he hadn't taken the gift away, but the words stuck in his throat at the hopeful, expectant expression on the blonde's face.

Draco nodded once and pushed the box closer to the dark haired man, unshrinking it wandlessly as he did. It wasn't much bigger, growing to only twice its shrunken size. "I do have to give you gifts," he said firmly. "I _want_ to," he quickly amended, seeing Harry's lips press together. "It's part of the courting, one of the ways I can prove I'm worthy. That I can take care of you and any children we'd have," he explained.

As well as part of the courting rite, it was instinct as a Veela. The urge to show off and display for his mate was deeply ingrained in him; he couldn't deny them even if he wanted to. And he didn't; it appealed to both his nature as a Veela and as a Malfoy. He nearly purred at the thought of showering Harry with affection and gifts.

"I want to, Harry. I like doing such things."

"Children?" Harry whispered, his mind still stuttering over that part. His eyes darted back down to the box and he swallowed, missing Draco's heated look and nod. He put a hand over the box, intending to push it back. "I don't—" He stopped when Draco's pale hand settled over his and gently curled around it. It was warm, surprisingly so; he had expected it to be cool. "Alright," he relented and pulled the box closer with his free hand, unwilling to remove the hand pressed warmly over his.

Draco nodded with pleasure, a happy smile on his face. "I— I know you aren't used to getting things, but you're going to have to get over that. I'm going to be doing this a lot, Harry."

"How did you—" Harry started, distracted from opening the box, staring incredulously at the blonde. Few people knew about his less-than desirable upbringing and he sometimes wished even they didn't know. Merlin, just an hour ago he would be mortified that Draco Malfoy knew such things; convinced the blonde would use the knowledge to mock him. As he looked into pale grey eyes, he saw... too much. Anger. Hurt. Indignation. Affection. It was a bit much to take in at the moment. Especially coming from Draco Malfoy.

Draco shifted nervously in his seat. "I might have asked Hermione a few things..." he said quietly. He hadn't wanted to tell Harry that, not yet, but he was unwilling to lie. He couldn't (wouldn't) lie to Harry, not now and probably not ever; at least about anything remotely important. He knew Harry hated liars (who didn't?) and would never trust him if he kept things from him, either. It would be hard but he intended to keep his vow.

"You spoke to Hermione?" Harry asked, eyes wide with shock and disbelief. He couldn't believe Hermione would do such a thing, especially without saying anything to him! He scowled and nearly tossed the box back in the blonde's lap. The fact that Draco had called the witch _Hermione_ and not 'Granger' wasn't something he noticed in his moment of irritation.

Draco nodded, speaking quickly hoping to ease the anger he saw tightening Harry's shoulders and his free hand to fist. "Yes. I sought her out weeks ago. I was desperate, Harry," he added softly, the honestly shining in his grey eyes. "It took awhile to gain her trust but she spoke of many things."

He had nearly been hexed when he first knocked on her door, ducking and holding his empty hands up in surrender. It took about an hour of begging, as he stood out in the cold on her front porch, before she even invited him in. It took another hour to explain why he sought her out. Naturally, Hermione had been wary and downright skeptical when he told her about Harry being his mate. At some point, though, he had gotten through to her and she became an invaluable source of information. He respected her wishes (and the witch's loyalty to Harry) when she had said there were things she wouldn't be telling him, things Harry wouldn't want him to know unless he told Draco himself.

She asked as many questions as she answered and he found himself liking the witch, trying not to regret not getting to know her sooner. He was grateful she hadn't mentioned how big of an arse he'd been, but she didn't need to. Her initial hesitance to speak with him and her stiff posture said it for her and he again found himself rather in awe of the witch. He knew few people that would go to such lengths to help a friend. Gratitude for Hermione Granger felt odd but welcome and he found himself stumbling through an apology.

It was horribly embarrassing (and humbling) to stutter and stammer but the witch didn't interrupt or mock him, either sensing his sincerity or because she was just too damn nice to mock someone struggling (even if she didn't like them). She didn't immediately forgive him, of course, but things were less awkward from then on. He wasn't expecting anything miraculous but he made sure he was honest and respectful of Hermione and it didn't really take long for her to warm up to him.

He figured she just thought it easier in the long run. If he did get Harry to agree to be with him, as he fervently hoped, she'd be 'stuck' with him and he appreciated her efforts to make things smoother. Almost friendly and warm. He didn't have to try to get along with Hermione; it was actually remarkably easy. She was funny, clever and had a very interesting way to balance her Muggle and Wizarding heritages that Draco found inspiring and impressive.

Smartest witch of her age indeed.

If it wasn't for Hermione, he never would have found out where Harry lived and he wouldn't be here at this moment, finally able to speak to, look at, _smell_ his intended. He certainly wouldn't be practically vibrating with anticipation as he gave Harry his first gift of many. "Please don't be mad at her," he begged softly. "She realized how serious I am—how serious _this_ is—and trusted me."

"Alright," Harry said quietly after a long moment, his emotions settling a bit. He was still a little pissed at Hermione but rational thought trickled back in. Hermione wouldn't have told the blonde a damn thing if she had felt he was disingenuous or a threat to him or Teddy. Still... He was going to have a talk with one Hermione Granger. She could have at least given him a warning.

He shook the box gently and looked up at Draco with a questioning expression. "How often are you going to be doing this?" he said and lifted the box, indicating he meant giving him things.

Draco cleared his throat and shifted closer, hoping it was subtle enough Harry wouldn't notice and jump away. "Once a month and probably before every chaperoned outing."

The typical courtship lasted six to twelve months, giving him time to ponder the perfect gifts for each occasion. Each should increase in cost and personal meaning, something he knew might be complicated by Harry's strange aversion to gifts. Each outing gift could be small but meaningful. He had already planned (and purchased) the first three in a fit of optimism, eagerly taking Hermione's hints and the occasional outright recommendation.

It took him a little practice to buy something mundane and almost classified as boring but with Hermione's assurances that Harry would like one thing over another, he got used to it. By the third gift, he hadn't brought the witch along and she had approved when he showed it off to her (subtly asking for approval but mostly just to include the witch in the whole situation).

"How often are we going out?" Harry choked out, his fingers laying limply over the box. He had dated wizards before... so he hadn't a problem with Draco being male but he just didn't date much. Period. He had Teddy. He couldn't ask Hermione or the twins to watch him too often, he felt like he took advantage of them as it was.

He fought the urge to squirm when Draco gave him an affectionate look and tapped the box in invitation.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco shrugged one shoulder gracefully. He was still watching Harry, waiting for his gift to be opened. But apparently, an answer was needed first.

"Depends how often you'd like to. Usually twice a week is customary."

"Tw-twice a week..." Harry stuttered. "I have Teddy! I can't just... gallivant around with you twice a week!"

Draco chuckled, shifting closer, pleased when Harry didn't do anything but blink at him. "I don't know if I can handle seeing you less," he said honestly. He was hoping for a few times a week—daily, at his most optimistic. He _probably_ wouldn't need the contact that often but it would make things so much easier. "We don't always have to go out. I can come over here to spend time with you. Both of you," he added, his eyes flicking to the other room. He genuinely liked Teddy. Distant relation or not, the little boy was charming to be around and quite intelligent. "The whole point is to get to know each other, Harry."

He ached to add that this was going to be permanent, the end result being marriage (and bonding) but he didn't want to overwhelm the other man. Harry was starting to get that wide-eyed look he'd come to realize meant he was on the verge of freaking out. He hadn't seen it often, but it was easy to spot once one knew what to look for. He leaned back a little, giving Harry some space to breath and think. Of course, it didn't last long and he was swaying close again within moments.

"Oh," Harry said weakly.

It was a very good point and he realized how much sense it made as soon as the words left the blonde's mouth. Of course; for how long they knew each other, they were still practically strangers. He found himself interested in learning more about Draco than how he took his tea and how many different smirks the man could produce (seven). He already realized there was a warmth to the man that might or might not be influenced by his Veela nature, but it was a nice, unexpected, surprise nonetheless.

"Alright."

Harry focused back on the box, trying to avoid the intense look he was getting from Draco. He felt his entire right side warm with the blonde's body heat but didn't move away. It felt... nice. He carefully opened the box and stared at the leather bracelet laying on a pillow of silky looking silver fabric. "Uhm," he said, taking it out and looking at it, feeling the leather between his fingers with an unconscious move.

It was black, and even with multiple strands woven in a fine braid it wasn't more than a half inch thick. There was a snap connecting the bracelet together. His eyebrows rose when he studied it; it was indeed Muggle designed and made but he felt a tingle of magic coming from it, as well. Like it had been woven through it. His own magic sparked and tingled in answer; it was a very pleasant, but a new, and almost odd, sensation.

Draco shifted closer, ignoring Harry's questioning glance for now, and plucked the bracelet from Harry's fingers and unsnapped it before quickly refastening it on Harry's wrist. A burst of warmth went through him as he took in Harry wearing his gift, a feeling of happy smugness going through him next when the other man made no move to remove it. As nice as the leather was, he'd much rather prefer a nice silver bonding cuff, but he had to go at Harry's pace.

"Do you like it?" he asked quietly, running a finger over the braided leather, slipping just enough to feel warm skin.

He wanted to get something shiny and showy, something expensive that showcased his wealth and his ability to support Harry and a family—a bracelet of platinum or gold, studded with emeralds, rubies and diamonds. Or something ornately carved by goblin artisans. Something worthy of Harry. Hermione, Merlin bless her, warned him off anything like that, especially at first. Harry would appreciate simple things much more until he got used to the finer things.

Draco could see the wisdom in her words as he saw Harry admire the simple leather band as if it were gold or platinum. He vowed to himself that by the time they bonded—and they _would_ , if it was the last thing he ever did—Harry wouldn't find himself unworthy of expensive gifts. His mate would proudly wear the Veela's platinum bonding cuff. He intended to show Harry he was worth it and more.

"I do; thank you," Harry said softly, running his finger over the leather as well. It was a bit stiff, but he knew with time it would soften and he would barely even feel it. He nearly blushed again at the thought; he was already thinking ahead and it shocked him. He looked up and tried to remember what he wanted to ask the blonde before he'd been side-tracked by the gift. "Why are you doing this?"

Draco leaned back a bit, slightly annoyed. He didn't hide it and he was a bit confused to see a flicker of delight go across Harry's expression. "I told you. You're my mate, Harry. I'm— I have to. I need to. I _want_ to."

"See? That right there; ' _have to_ '," Harry said softly, shaking his head a little. "It so unfair that you're stuck with me." He'd been momentarily heartened to see Draco looking put out, relieved to see that the blonde wasn't acting so odd merely on instincts alone. He had almost cheered to see Draco irritated with him—it was a much more normal expression on the blonde's features than abject adoration. Merlin, he must be crazy (or incredibly fickle) to find that sort of thing appealing...

Draco sucked his teeth and turned Harry's chair until the other man was facing him, trying not to chuckle at his shocked expression. He did enjoy watching those beautiful green eyes widen and he hoped other emotions caused that reaction... and that he'd see such a thing soon. "I'm not _stuck_ with you, Harry. It's a very celebrated thing—a Veela finding their mate. I don't resent it one bit. You're destined for me, as I you. We're a perfect match."

"A perfect match?" Harry asked, his voice soft with lingering doubt. It still sounded like Draco was stuck with him, even if he had accepted it. And appeared to enjoy the idea... Was the blonde even interested in blokes? Did Draco even _want_ him outside of his damned Veela instincts? He didn't know why it was so important to him, but he hated the thought of either of them being manipulated. He'd filled his quota on that, thankyouverymuch. 

Draco nodded once. Firmly. "Yes. We wouldn't be destined mates otherwise. I've known you were my mate shortly after I turned seventeen. I've been trying to find you since then," he said softly, trying not to sound like he blamed Harry for vanishing.

He didn't— not really.

When he saw Harry at his home, his terrified expression easy to see even through his badly swollen face, he hadn't known the full extent of their relationship then. He hadn't come into his inheritance yet. He had fancied the man but hadn't ever shown it. He had briefly seen Harry during the final battle, his heart dropping to his stomach when he thought Harry dead. Only the fact that he hadn't felt like someonr tore his heart out (there had been pain but it hd been managable) convinced him his eyes were wrong; Harry wasn't dead and he had been so relieved to see the man move moments later, he had nearly fainted.

He never got another chance to get close enough to Harry to speak properly. Every fleeting glance since, he had found his way blocked somehow and always missed a chance at approaching Harry. Harry hadn't stuck around long after the trials and such, so his chances had faded along with his hope of ever seeing the wizard again. It felt wonderful to finally be able to see Harry and he took a moment to bask in the closeness he was finally experiencing.

"'M sorry," Harry murmured, feeling more than a little horrified. He realized he wanted to lay a comforting hand on Draco, anywhere really, and he stared at his lap. He didn't know why he felt so terrible... and it was mostly for Draco; he couldn't imagine how it felt to be mate-less for all those years. Knowing and longing but unable to do anything about it. It had to have been horrible.

Draco waved a hand, waving off the apology but touched Harry felt the need to give it. "I didn't suffer, if that's what you're concerned with. I would have only been truly affected had you rejected me."

"I probably would have a few years ago," Harry admitted, feeling like a right bastard. It was true, though. He wouldn't have had the time to calm down and mellow out. He probably would have immediately hexed the blonde the second he saw him at his door and refused him. He figured the wait was only for the best and let it go. He looked into the pale grey eyes and sighed. "So, fine, you aren't ' _stuck with me_ ' and you're... happy about this?"

Draco nodded twice. Firmly. "I am. I've—" He paused and his cheeks pinked, earning a shocked stare from Harry. "I've liked you for ages," he admitted. "I know, it didn't appear as such but... well, I was a git—we've been over that. I didn't know how to handle being told 'no', having rarely heard such a thing." He grinned and winked cheekily. "Imagine my surprise when I had very... detailed dreams about you and realized what they meant." He felt another blush heating his cheeks at the mention of his dreams.

They had been incredibly detailed and erotic, more so than the sex-dreams he had had since hitting puberty. By that time, it wasn't odd for the green-eyed Gryffindor to star in such dreams. But after the third occurrence of the almost-real-but-not dreams, waking up trembling and impossibly hard (but unable to find relief), he couldn't ignore what the dreams meant—he had identified his mate.

It was one of the more mortifying conversations he'd had with his father when he needed to confirm it; describing details and... feelings. He had tried to be vague but a hard look had him bowing his head and telling everything. He still flushed whenever he remembered it, especially in his father's presence. And it hadn't helped at all to know his father had gone through the same thing... he really did not want to know erotic details about his mother.

He had been cautiously thrilled at the time to realize Harry Potter was his destined mate, feeling giddy his crush was deeper, more meaningful than just a quirk of teenaged hormones. Reality intruded when he realized the other wizard probably still hated him (and he couldn't really find it in himself to blame Harry for it—not one bit). He had been in an inconsolable state for months. His parents had understood, but only on the most basic of levels.

Draco blinked rapidly, coming out of his reverie, when Harry was still giving him a suspicious look. "What?"

"You've never once regretted the fact that I'm your mate? _Me?_ " Harry asked, waving a hand near his head and then point into his chest firmly. He almost wished he had been there when Draco first found out, just to see what the blonde had truly thought. He probably would have kicked something and blown something up in an emotional fit if he'd been given that sort of news at that time.

Draco sheepishly nodded, once. Honesty fucking sucked sometimes. "Once—But it was more because I thought you hated me and would hex me soon as look at me," he hurried to explain when he saw a series of emotions flit across Harry's face. "I felt rejected before I had even approached you." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I was more than thrilled when I learned you were my mate, alright? Like I said, I'd already fancied you and everything just... made sense when I realized." At Harry's questioning look, he grinned. "We couldn't keep our eyes or hands off each other, Harry. Sure, it was fighting but I could never resist the urge to lay my hands on you, any way I could." Or stare across the Great Hall, at every meal-time, whenever he knew Harry wasn't looking.

"Oh." Harry willed his body to not react. It was a little embarrassing to realize there might have been more to their previous... altercations. (He mentally cursed Hermione, since she had said as much in sixth year—the insufferable know-it-all.) He blushed and cleared his throat, his body flushing with warmth when Draco leaned in close. Merlin, of all the things that've ever happened to him... he had to be a mate to Draco-I'm-a-bloody-Veela-Malfoy.

"Is it normal to court a mate? I thought Veela just... claimed?" he asked, fighting another flush when visions of such a thing popped into his head. He was also just able to suppress a shiver, trying to block out the thought of heat, power and passion (things he was sure were very descriptive of a Veela's mating prowess). Merlin, he never thought he'd have a mental image of Draco pinning him down and he'd find the idea more-than-satisfactory.

Draco chuckled lowly and leaned closer. "Is that what I should do, Harry? _Claim_ you? Now?" he purred. Harry didn't answer but he knew why he didn't. "As tempting as it sounds—" He leaned back slightly, giving them both some space and breathing room. "I didn't want to do it that way. I wanted to give you the choice."

"Oh," Harry whispered, touched. "Thank you." He looked away, feeling a bit lightheaded even as his chest felt tight. He didn't know if Draco realized just how much that would mean to him or not and he was scared to ask. Scared to know the Veela was manipulating him. "Does dinner tonight count as an outing?" he asked suddenly.

Draco leaned back in his seat, resting his hands on his stomach, and smiled softly. "It can. Teddy will be our unofficial chaperone. Though, traditionally, it needs to be an adult or even a house-elf, as long as its bonded to one of our families. But since we'll behave—" He winked, "It won't be a problem this once."

"Alright," Harry nodded, blinking. "Who will chaperone usually?"

Draco smiled and couldn't restrain the urge to lean forward and brush a few stray strands of black hair from Harry's temple, thrilled and nearly crooning when Harry allowed it; lingering for only a fraction of second. He wasn't refused or smacked away and he sighed softly, happily. He hadn't expected the unruly mop to be so silky or the man's skin to be so soft and smooth. He also hadn't expected to be able to touch Harry so soon, even innocently, and he relished the opportunity. He cleared his throat and forced his hand down to rest limply against his stomach once more.

"Hermione has agreed to do it, if you'd like."

Harry sat quietly, thinking, for a long moment. The idea of Hermione hanging around on their dates was at once a relief and an annoyance. He had never been chaperoned while dating and it seemed it would really cramp the intimate feel. Of course, he didn't know how intimate an atmosphere he wanted, at least until he got to know Draco better. However, he trusted Hermione implicitly... and he would probably tell her every detail, anyway. She was incredibly nosy (though, _she_ called it 'looking out for him') like that. All in all, if a chaperone was required, Hermione would be his preferred person.

"Are _you_ OK with that?" he asked, looking over at Draco.

"I am. I've come to respect her greatly and she willingly offered. Otherwise, it would probably be my mother." Both men grimaced at the same time. "I love my mother dearly, but she can be a bit... old fashioned and over bearing." His mother was not Veela, but very staunch in 'traditions' and 'following what's deemed proper'. It was exhausting at best and in this case would probably be the thing that chased Harry off.

Harry nodded blankly. "This is so strange..." he murmured to himself, giving Draco an apologetic smile when he looked up, having heard.

"I know. And I am firm on my promise to give you the space and time you require."

"Thank you," Harry said softly.

Draco shook his head and dared to clasp Harry's hand between his own. He crooned softly when he again wasn't refused or smacked away. "No, thank _you_ , Harry. For this chance." He slowly leaned down and placed a feather light kiss on the back of Harry's hand, smiling brightly when he straightened back up.

Harry tried not to blush again but he couldn't fight it. It was downright sweet to have Draco kissing his hand like some medieval suitor. His eyes flicked all over the blonde's handsome face and he knew he wasn't going to be able to fight this. He couldn't; as odd and unexpected as it was, it felt right. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He hadn't a clue what to do until dinner and it suddenly seemed like a less-than-good idea to spend any more time around the Veela.

"Did you have other errands? You can come back later for dinner..."

"I'd rather stay, if that's alright. Talk; get to know one another better."

Harry nodded and tried not to sigh. He had almost hoped for a little more time to think everything through on his own. He didn't mind that Draco wanted to stay, otherwise.

.|.

Harry fidgeted a bit, staring at the oven on occasion, willing the lasagna to cook faster. He had spent nearly the entire four hours talking with Draco. It wasn't unpleasant; on the contrary he rather enjoyed the time spent talking to the blonde. On one hand, it was rather nice to get to know the blonde better. On the other, he got to know the blonde better.

It was such a strange thing, really.

He learned a lot of things about Draco that he had never known, not that he ever took (or was given) the chance before. He also told a lot more about himself than he was exactly comfortable with. Hermione had told the Veela a bit about his childhood, but not everything and he appreciated that. He was a little less pissed at Hermione...

The few awkward questions about life before Hogwarts left them both in their own thoughts. Harry was trying to get his memories to move to a different direction; the first day with Teddy. Graduation. Hermione and Ron's wedding. Anything, really, that wouldn't have him dwelling on his childhood.

Draco was seething. Silently and, thankfully, without displaying. He was bombarded with horribly detailed mental images of each memory Harry had shared. His hands curled into tight fists; both in anger and in an effort to hide the claws trying to elongate. He didn't know what he should do with the information either. Did he exact revenge? He yearned to, but something told him Harry wouldn't appreciate it, no matter how much it was needed for his own peace of mind.

Did he do _any_ thing?

That same instinct told him _no_ ; he only had to remember these things and make sure they never occurred again. He couldn't even describe the warm, light feeling it gave him that he had been told something so personal, so soon. He looked up when he heard Harry clear his throat, a slightly confused look on his face. He took a moment to study the man, marveling. He was amazed Harry was as compassionate and forgiving as he was... He snapped to attention when Harry started speaking.

"How come I'm your mate? I mean, I'm a man," Harry asked. The question had been bouncing around his head for awhile but he hadn't asked it yet. He wasn't bothered with the idea, he was just curious. He narrowed his eyes when Draco gave him a kind smile and he had a feeling he wasn't going to like the answer. He tried not to react to the realization that he was starting to be able to read Draco better.

Draco smiled and tried to think of an answer. "I don't think you want to know..." he said. He didn't want to lie but he was quite sure Harry wouldn't like the answer. It would probably freak him out... The poor man was still learning about the Wizarding world since he was raised like a Muggle.

"I asked, didn't I?" Harry snarked, crossing his arms over his chest. "You said children earlier; we're two men—" He pointed out flippantly, waving a hand between them. "Surely it won't work... like that." He applauded himself for not stuttering. Or blushing. He didn't think a Veela would go for adoption or surrogacy. At least not for the first child, which always seemed like some exalted thing in Wizarding culture and he doubted it was different for Veela. He was out of ideas and he _knew_ Draco had answers.

Draco smiled again and leaned back to stare at the ceiling. Hermione had asked the same thing, though she did it fairly early in her interrogation. She had taken the answer quite well, especially for a Muggleborn. She had been thrilled, really. Odd that. He shook the thought away for now; thoughts of Hermione Granger weren't exactly helpful at the moment.

He didn't know what Harry would think. Of course, he was already relieved Harry seemed comfortable with being in a relationship with another man, even if he had to fight a vicious surge of jealousy at the very idea he had been with someone else. It really did save him a bit of effort, in the long run. He slowly tilted his head back down, looking at Harry earnestly. He tilted his head a little and studied Harry, taking in the other man's tense body language but open expression. He slowly exhaled; OK, so Harry wanted to know but seemed wary of what he'd learn.

"Well, it's not uncommon for those with creature blood to be able to conceive. Wizards as well, but it's more common amongst Wizards with creature heritage."

"Alright..." Harry said slowly, a bit lost. "Men, you mean... Wizards can..." he trailed off. Draco nodded. Harry tried not to gape stupidly. "How—I didn't know... I've never heard of or seen such a thing." He didn't think Draco was lying but it just seemed so... odd. His eyebrows drew together as he tried to remember every seeing (or hearing about) a pregnant man. Nothing came to mind and he gave Draco a dubious look, waiting as patiently as he could for the blonde to continue speaking.

Draco nodded slowly, watching Harry closely. He knew it wasn't a common sight, even amongst those of his own kind. Between cautious healers (that recommended bed-rest at the first sign of discomfort or distress) and glamours, it wasn't often you'd see a pregnant wizard waddling about. He tried not to point out that Harry hadn't exactly been out and about in Wizarding society either; he was either living at Hogwarts or amongst Muggles for nearly his entire life.

"Veela tend to be... overprotective of their pregnant mates, so it's not likely you'd see one out and about, especially not heavily pregnant." He didn't add that Veela, especially, tend to be on the psychotic end of the 'protective' scale. He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, unsure how to continue. Harry didn't looked particularly bothered, his head nodding in understanding—or maybe it was shock.

"It's not _as_ common for wizards, but it happens. Obviously, one or both of us have the ability. Otherwise—" He shrugged, lifting one hand, "We wouldn't be mates." It was much more likely it was him, being a Veela, but he knew not to be surprised by the way Fate messed with Harry Potter. He much preferred if Harry were able to conceive, the very idea of being Harry's protector and dominant singing through his blood—But he really wasn't picky. He was ready and willing to take up either role in their relationship, whatever made Harry happy.

"Oh," Harry whispered, feeling himself pale. He didn't know if he should believe Draco or not, it could be some sick Veela joke and he didn't know how to react. It wasn't a surprise to feel the hope and elation at the very notion; he thought he had to forfeit the chance at a family when he realized he preferred wizards. "One or both of us, huh?"

He absently rubbed his upper arm, thinking. He wasn't exactly versatile... he had his preferences and it was usually the submissive role, which tended to surprise (and once, completely put off) prospective partners. He didn't know which Draco would prefer and he found himself looking the blonde over thoughtfully. Did he have the ability or Draco? He could probably— He cut his thoughts off before they could go further, blushing furiously at how easily his thoughts had lead to sex. And children. With Draco Malfoy. Oh bloody hell...

Draco nodded, eyeing Harry warily. Harry was taking it rather well (even if he was currently—adorably—stained with a fierce blush). Probably too well. "It's usually the... submissive partner," he clarified. It was a foregone conclusion, really, but he was curious what Harry's reaction would be. A widening of green eyes and a flash of something he couldn't identify was really all he got to witness.

"Ah, of course. I mean, can't get up the duff if you aren't the one being buggered, yeah?"

Draco snorted a laugh before he could smother it. It was crude but humorous—and true. "Yes, exactly." He paused for a long moment, still studying Harry. "You don't believe me," he said, trying not to sound frustrated.

"Not really..." Harry huffed irritably and rubbed his forehead with quick, agitated strokes. Another glance at the blonde did nothing to tell him if the blonde was having him on or not. Draco still looked serious (and slightly put-out not to be taken at his word) but that could just be because he had perfected his blank face and wanted to really sell the whole thing—waiting to pounce and snicker at him for believing such a thing.

He _wanted_ to believe Draco, but the concept was having a hard time sinking in. It went against everything he knew but then again... His knowledge of the wizarding world and its quirks was something he was _still_ learning. Massive rooms could, magically, fit inside a tent. Potions could do just about anything—even if they tasted vile and were made of the most disgusting ingredients. Practically anything could be conjured from thin air with a flick of a magic wand. People could change into an animal.

Was the possibility of pregnant men really so unbelievable?

Draco sighed and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose or yell at Harry. Reminding himself of Harry's (very lacking) Muggle upbringing calmed him further. It wasn't possible for Muggle men and they didn't have anything that covered the subject at Hogwarts; how was Harry to know before now? Harry looked calmer now, more accepting and considering, but he still felt the urge to make sure the man was completely convinced.

"I wouldn't lie. I promised I'd be honest with you. I'm telling the truth about this as well." He sat back and watched various emotions flit across Harry's face. Doubt. Suspicion. Shock. Lastly, and a bit more important to him, belief tinged with interest. He forced himself not to react to widened green eyes, though. "I'm sure Hermione has a book on the subject," he offered. He was half joking and half serious. From the few meetings he had with the witch, it wouldn't surprise him one bit if Hermione had a book (or two) on male pregnancies or creature mating habits. Especially after their talks.

"I bet she does," Harry muttered, still trying to wrap his head around the truth. He jumped when Teddy ran into the kitchen, only then realizing the oven timer was beeping loudly. "Teddy," he said in a warning tone and nodded approvingly when the little boy stopped and offered a sheepish smile in apology before continuing into the kitchen at a more sedate pace. And away from the oven, abandoning his efforts to 'help'.

Harry stood with jerky movements and moved to the oven, relieved to have a moment to let his mind wander without Draco gazing intently as his face. He knew he was shit at masking his thoughts from showing and he didn't want Draco to get the wrong (or right) impression of what he was thinking.

Draco looked between Harry and Teddy and offered the little boy a conspiratorial wink when Harry's back was turned. He grinned back when Teddy beamed a smile at him, hopping over to the table in bunny hops until he was standing in front of him, his nose looking sufficiently leporine to match his silly, hopping gait.

"Are we supposed to help?" he asked quietly, leaning down a bit so he could whisper to the little boy. He didn't know how the dinner-time routine went but he was eager to learn. Hopefully, he would be a part of it often.

"Yeah," Teddy said, nodding, the ever-so-slight bunny appearance melting away. He pointed to a drawer. "You get the forks 'n stuff," he said as he got a small pile of napkins from a low cupboard.

Draco chuckled, tickled by the child's easy camaraderie, and made his way to the indicated drawer. He was amused to see most of the cutlery didn't match, and he grabbed three forks at random. He hadn't often bothered with the pre-rituals of dinner, usually eating out or leaving it to house-elves, but it was surprisingly fun. Teddy pointed him around the kitchen, directing him to where the cups and plates were, being sure to remind him to get three of everything. He found himself smiling, enjoying the child's take-charge attitude probably more than he should be.

It was oddly enjoyable to be so... domestic. By the time he sat down again, there was plate with a healthy portion of steaming lasagna on it in front of 'his' spot. He hadn't had the dish before but it smelled wonderful. He watched Teddy dig in, Harry reminding him a time or two to 'slow down and chew, for Merlin's sake', and finally took a bite himself. He moaned softly as he chewed. "S'good," he mumbled around a mouthful. He wouldn't normally do such a thing but he felt the need to offer his praise as soon as possible. Harry had been subtly looking at him for a reaction.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Harry immediately scolded out of habit. He paused and flushed; he had just chided an adult. An adult that wanted to court him. Shit. "Uh, I mean... You know; monkey see, monkey do," he said and nodded his head towards Teddy.

Draco swallowed hastily before the laugh he felt coming made him choke on his food. "Sorry, forgive my manners, Theodore. I'm usually not so boorish."

"'S'OK," Teddy said brightly and giggled. It was funny that Harry-daddy scolded an adult just like he would anyone else but it was even funnier when Mr. Draco called him Theodore. It wasn't quite right (Harry-daddy said he was 'just Teddy'—or maybe it was 'Ed'?—or something like that) but it was so... Mr. Draco. He was all proper but still laughed and smiled.

After half of his lasagna was gone, and the need to shovel it into his mouth quickly had abated a bit, Teddy was able to focus on Mr. Draco and Harry-daddy a little more. He thoughtfully nibbled on his garlic bread, his green eyes darting between the two men as he looked at them with curious intent. Something was weird but he didn't know what. It hit him with sudden inspiration and he gasped, nearly choking on his bread.

Harry dropped his fork and checked on Teddy, leaning over as his eyes nervously darted around his face. "You OK, Teddy?" The little boy nodded and sheepishly took a few quick sips of his milk, tapping his chest with a little fist. "Sure?" Teddy nodded again, rolling his eyes a little this time. Harry refused to feel bad for worrying so he only wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes right back.

"'M OK," Teddy said, putting his fork down and looking at Mr. Draco. "You like Harry-daddy," he said proudly, sitting up nice and tall, pleased with himself; he had figured things out. Mr. Draco kept sneaking looks at Harry-daddy. He saw those kinda looks before; Uncle Ron would give them to Aunt Hermione. A lot. They would even be gross and _kiss_. He looked between the two adults, surprised to see Harry-daddy with pink cheeks while Mr. Draco just nodded. He narrowed his eyes, wondering if Mr. Draco was going to kiss Harry-daddy.

Draco paused for a moment, unsure how to continue. He wasn't comfortable keeping it from Teddy or having it be a secret, but what did a child know of mates, feelings and the like? He also didn't know Harry's wishes on the matter and he was stunned into silence for a few moments before he realized Teddy was waiting for an answer. He looked to Harry and merely got a small shrug and a similarly curious expression. As if Harry didn't already know...

"I do, I like him very much. Is that alright?" he asked sincerely.

He didn't exactly enjoying asking a small child's permission but he knew Teddy's approval would mean quite a lot to Harry. He peeked a glance at Harry from the corner of his eye and saw the other man was now watching Teddy with a mixture of exasperation, fondness and apprehension on his face. It was adorably endearing.

"Sure," Teddy shrugged, unsure why Mr. Draco was asking. He didn't mind one bit. Harry-daddy should have someone that liked him, even if they did kiss and do gross things.

He hummed and continued to stuff his lasagna into his mouth, huffing and going slower after another stern reprimand. He loved lasagna, it was so good (especially how Harry-daddy made it), it wasn't his fault he wanted to inhale it. If he wasn't meant to eat it fast, Harry-daddy shouldn't cast a mild cooling charm on it; having to blow on it was the only thing that slowed him down.

He had already figured out that Mr. Draco wasn't mean anymore; he was weird but funny and nice to him. He also seemed to like Harry-daddy, making gooey eyes whenever he looked over at him. He sat up, another thought occurring to him. "Are you gonna date Harry-daddy?" he asked shrewdly. Well, as shrewdly as an almost-five-year-old could be. Dates were serious. Dates and kisses meant you loved someone. Mr. Draco looked serious but he was still smiling a little, too.

Harry laughed, embarrassment oddly absent for the moment. "How do _you_ know what a date is?" he asked Teddy, poking the little boy's shoulder.

"I heard Uncle Fred said he was gonna take someone on a date. I asked what it meant," Teddy said proudly. He looked back to Mr. Draco. "Well, are you?" he asked leaning forward with interest, his lasagna momentarily forgotten.

Draco nodded. "I am. Lots of them," he said leaning forward as well and grinning. He nearly asked if it was alright but ended up just chuckling when Teddy made a pleased little humming sound before stuffing the rest of his food in his mouth and asked for seconds. He peeked at Harry again and made his own soft pleased sound when he noticed Harry sitting there with a smile on his face—even if it was aimed at Teddy. It was very hard not to lean into the other man or strut around the kitchen with a happy sort of pride.

He managed though.

He probably ate more lasagna than Teddy, but it was embarrassingly hard to tell by the time dinner was over.


	4. Chapter 4

"You don't have to do this," Harry said, for what felt like the tenth time. He sighed and handed a wet plate to Draco when the blonde only stood in a patiently waiting pose; his hand open and ready for the plate. Draco gave every impression of a man willing to wait, in said pose, until he got what he wanted.

It was a little odd to find the hint of the arrogance he knew (and had come to expect in his youth) from Draco kind of reassuring. Even if it was about dishes, of all things. It somehow settled the idea the blonde wasn't just blindly wandering about, led by hormones and latent instincts. He'd be lying if he didn't find himself completely hating the warm, gooey looks as much as the smirks and lifted chin. Merlin help him...

Draco carefully dried the plate with a clean hand towel and slid it into the cabinet. "I know, but I want to help." Plus, he would feel awkward just sitting at the table and merely watching Harry putter around while he cleaned up. Even though it was tempting to just sit and watch Harry... The wizard's unconscious grace ( which was a pleasant surprise he hadn't expected, not after watching Harry bumble about often) made even chores mesmerizing to observe.

"Sure you do," Harry said and rolled his eyes once he looked away. He let the sink drain and turned to face Draco, perching a hip against the counter as he crossed his arms and looked at the blonde with a flat expression. "Dishes are boring."

Draco nodded and tossed the damp towel over his shoulder. "Yes, they are," he agreed, smiling a little. "But you do them, so—" He shrugged one shoulder, lifting his hand a little. He didn't know if his insistence to help truly annoyed Harry or not but he wasn't going to back off that easily. He was going to take any chance he got to spend time with Harry and interact with the man. Even if it meant doing dishes. Like a Muggle. Besides, Harry seemed more bemused than anything else.

"Gotta be done," Harry said plainly and lifted a hand as he shrugged one shoulder, unaware he was mirroring Draco's earlier gesture.

Draco chuckled, shaking his head a little. He didn't quite get Harry, but he didn't mind the manual labor as much as he thought he would. "You could easily just use magic and be done with it in seconds. Why is that?" he asked, watching Harry with an openly curious expression. He watched Harry's cheeks pink lightly, almost missing the sight when the man turned away and started fiddling with the kettle. Thankfully, Teddy was in bed so he didn't have to worry about interruptions. He stepped closer, cocking his head slightly.

"Actually—" Draco stepped closer. "I don't think I've seen you use magic at all tonight. But it's there," he murmured and pressed even closer, his eyes closing slowly as he felt the subtle, yet exciting, thrum of Harry's magic. Earlier, he'd had a moment of concern, fearing Harry's magic had somehow been exhausted or lost. It wouldn't have been a big surprise, not after the powerful blast he'd dealt You-Know-Who; Harry wouldn't have been the first wizard to have burned through his magical core past the point of regeneration. (Though, most wizards didn't survive the draining of their magic.) It would have explained why Harry went to live amongst Muggles, as well.

But, no—it was there; just as strong as he'd remembered, tingling along his nerve endings and making his mouth water. His own magic seemed to sing along with it and he nearly shuddered from the sensation. It's was... pleasurable. His hand hovered a few centimeters off of Harry's body, right over his lower back and hip, and he was mostly successful in repressing the next shiver that wanted to work through his entire body.

It was indescribably thrilling to be so close and to feel their magics intermingling subtly. He inhaled sharply; the sensation was nearly overwhelming. If he needed any further verification of Harry being his, this incredible feeling would be it. He opened his eyes, wondering if Harry felt anything. He didn't know how to read the odd expression on the other man's face but he didn't back away.

"I use magic. Just not all the time. I guess I'm just used to doing lots of things the Muggle way. I was raised that way, you know," Harry said in a babbled rush, his pulse reacting wildly to Draco's close proximity. The Veela was also causing his magic to pulse and spark just under his skin and various parts of his body tingle and warm in a very pleasant way. He never felt anything like that before and it was... odd. Pleasant (and bordering on erotic) but a completely new sensation. He idly wondered if it was due to Draco being a Veela (or the whole... mate... thing) but he didn't really care. It felt amazing...

He tried to focus on something else, _any_ thing else, as he tried to wrap his head around the fact he was feeling such things because of _Draco_. In the middle of his kitchen, while his hands were still damp and slightly pruny from washing up. It was surreal and a little overwhelming... It was almost too much, too soon. He swallowed thickly, very aware of the blonde's closeness.

"Is there some sort of protocol about kissing?" Harry suddenly asked in a near whisper when Draco leaned in, his eyes half-lidded and that silvery gaze focused intensely on his lips. He didn't shrug off or mention the warm hand pressing into the small of his back, though.

Draco jerked his head back, blinking a few times, and cleared his throat. "Indeed there is."

"Really?" Harry gaped. He'd only been trying to delay the action a bit (and get his head around the fact he _wanted_ Draco to lean in and kiss him), not _stop_ it. He didn't want his arse or back against the stove, quite sure the Veela would be pressed firmly against him in short order... and that Draco would be the sort that would make him go completely blank to his surroundings and he had no wish for a burnt arse.

Draco nodded, trying to keep himself from pouting. It wasn't very mature to pout but he had really hoped he could sneak in a kiss. Harry had looked more than willing moments ago. He felt various places (mostly the tips of his fingers, but also the various points on his body he would—embarrassingly—sprout feathers should he display) tingle with the urge to just say 'sod it!' and kiss the man anyway. Instead, he took a large step back and took a steadying breath.

"Yes, really. I'll send Hermione a full list of... guidelines and limitations. Technically, no kissing for the first month." Draco nodded at Harry's wide-eyed expression. He wasn't sure how the wizard felt about the notion of kissing and touching, at the moment, but he could only hope it would be something Harry wanted soon.

"A _month_? You've got to be shitting me!" Harry blurted out. He rolled his lips together and huffed a breath out through his nose, annoyed and a little embarrassed by his outburst.

He didn't want to sound overly eager but he'd never gone that long, in any relationship, without at least a small kiss. How were you supposed to know if you had chemistry with someone? Just because a look or a well placed hand made him tingle and warmth shoot through him, wasn't exactly proof of anything. Alright, maybe it _was_ ; but no kissing for a whole month? It sounded so... archaic and wrong. He fought the heat he felt trying to rise to his cheeks when he realized he still really wanted to kiss Draco. He felt a bit foolish for interrupting now. A singed arse almost seemed worth it...

Draco chuckled, feeling a satisfied warmth go through him from the knowledge that Harry seemed to wish it was sooner. It was almost as good as actually kissing the other man. _Almost_. "Yes," he said inclining his head slightly. "It's all very proper and formal."

And while he wasn't looking forward to holding off that long, but he couldn't deny the fact that he thought—no, he _knew_ —Harry was worth it. A little delayed gratification seemed an acceptable penance to show Harry he mattered. It really was a way to show his affection, respect and intention.

Even if it was going to practically kill him to keep his hands to himself...

"Oh Merlin, Hermione has to watch you kiss me?" Harry asked in a horrified whisper, remembering they would be chaperoned, and trying not to squirm or go into a very immature temper tantrum. He wanted to hide his face in embarrassment. It was one thing to tell Hermione about a date, quite another to have her there to witness it. Just _what_ did he agree to?

"No, not exactly, Harry," Draco said, amusement heavy in his tone. "She's only required to place monitoring charms. We aren't required to be in her sight line."

Harry muttered and went back to making tea. Great. He should have just said 'fuck courting; claim me' when he had the chance. He sighed and leaned back against the sink. He didn't know why he was complaining; he rarely liked moving too fast, even if he did still react without thinking more often than he should. But he hated surprises, even if this felt different... He didn't have to feel out if the bloke was really interested or merely using him.

With Draco, oddly enough, he knew exactly what the other man wanted and _why_. 'Harry Potter' was simply the name of his mate. Not a moderately powerful wizard he could use. Not because he was the Boy Who Lived. It had nothing to do with what was in his vaults or his family titles. It was weird to feel that sort of security and sense of peace from Draco Malfoy.

It was still a bit odd but he would adapt. He was already growing used to it; the longer he stayed in the blonde's presence, the more he was dreading the moment Draco would have to leave. That, as well, was a very odd feeling to get used to.

Draco was enjoying the quiet time with Harry, as well as his second cup of tea (that Harry, again, prepared perfectly) when he realized how late it was. The cute Muggle clock on the wall, shaped like some sort of farm animal, alerted him to the fact it was after 10. "Am I keeping you up?" he asked reluctantly, aware the man had a small child and probably awoke before the sun rose.

"Yeah," Harry said, just as reluctant. "Teddy's an early riser."

Draco nodded and stood, placing his cup in the sink before looking back at Harry with a warm expression. He hurried over when Harry stood as well and carefully reached down to take his hand. He squeezed it gently. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Harry said softly, not bothering to ask why he was being thanked. It was likely a long list, really. "Uhm..." he trailed off, working his teeth over his lower lip nervously before he realized what he was doing and made himself stop. He wanted to know when he would see Draco again but he didn't want to sound too eager. He still had some things to think through... The least of which was that he'd just spent a very pleasant couple of hours with Draco Malfoy; eating, doing menial housework and talking like normal people.

Draco chuckled and brought Harry's hand up to his lips, softly kissing the dip between his knuckles. A warm feeling started at his lips and spread through his entire body at he small, brief contact. He felt something settle inside and he sighed softly. He wanted to croon softly and rub those knuckles along his cheek but he released his hold after the brief contact.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" he asked, allowing the hopeful tone to be heard in his voice. He couldn't hide anything from Harry any longer; he didn't want to. Especially not when Harry responded so wonderfully when he let his feelings to be shown (to an extent).

It was probably too soon... Maybe he should've asked when Harry was available; but he really, really wanted to see Harry again, as soon as possible. He still felt like the whole evening had been some sort of wonderfully horrible dream and he needed to make sure it was all real.

"Sure," Harry said immediately. "Uhm, do we have to let 'Mione know?"

Draco hummed and rubbed his chin as he thought. "I suppose so. Shall I leave that to you?" Harry nodded and he smiled. He quickly leaned forward and brushed his lips across Harry's, nearly purring at the brief, barely-even-there contact. He wondered if Harry's magic also flared along with the light touch but he didn't want to ask just yet. It's possible it had, though; Harry was looking at him, eyes a little wide and his lips parted slightly. He stood back a step, putting a bit more distance between their bodies before he took further liberties.

"Good night, Harry. I'll see you tomorrow," he said and left the room before Harry could respond. He didn't want to risk an unpleasant reaction, just in case Harry hadn't been ready for such closeness. It really wasn't much, as far as contact went, and he hoped fervently he hadn't overstepped Harry's boundaries with even that small gesture... But he hadn't been able to help himself. He made his way out the front door, his fingers lightly pressing against his lips. They were warm and the gentle tingle was only now dissipating.

"'Night!" Harry called out when he finally snapped himself out of his shock. He hadn't expected Draco to kiss him! It was barely a kiss, though; more like the merest touch of lips. But it had still made his entire body (and magic) thrum pleasantly and he smiled goofily. He slowly lowered his hand, unsure how long he had been standing there with his fingers pressed against his lips like some swooning third-year who just got their first kiss. He shook his head at himself and stuck his own mug in the sink, shutting the lights off on his way out and up to bed.

He _really_ had some things to think about.

.|.

"'Mione."

Hermione had the urge to duck her head between her shoulders but turned around with a warm smile plastered on her face. "Harry!" she greeted the floo, hurrying over.

"Explain," Harry said shortly. He wasn't mad at Hermione, not really, but he really wanted to know what the hell had happened between her and Draco (and maybe just what she had been thinking, keeping everything from him). Before he yelled and ranted. Then apologized. Then thanked her. Hopefully he would be able to keep what he had to say in that order... It wouldn't do to have either of them close the floo before he'd apologized (if he yelled) or thanked the witch.

Hermione sighed and dragged a chair over to the floo, fully expecting a long conversation. She took a moment to cross her legs and smooth the fabric over her thighs, making herself comfortable. She didn't need to know what Harry was referring to; she had been expecting this call. She hadn't expected it so soon, but apparently Draco hadn't waited long once he got Harry's address. Good for him.

She leaned forward and studied Harry's face. Under the pinched expression, he had that dopey-shocked-what-the-hell-just-happened look going on. And even so, by the looks of her best friend, he hadn't refused the Veela's intentions. She had been wary of the blonde at first, but it didn't take long to see the sincerity when Malfoy had spoken to her about Harry being his mate. It took her all of 10 minutes to accept and adapt to the idea, but a bit longer to accept that it was _Draco Malfoy_ wanting her best friend as a life mate.

It really hadn't taken her long to recognize that Draco Malfoy would do everything in his power to make sure Harry was content, happy and taken care of. (She hadn't mentioned it, but she had a feeling it wasn't _all_ due to the blonde's Veela nature and/or Harry being his mate.) How could she stand in the way of that? Harry deserved that and more.

Plus, Draco's apology, thought greatly appreciated, had completely surprised her. She had almost wanted to draw it out, make him feel terrible... but when it was clear he already did, she hadn't the heart to. It also occurred to her, grudgingly, that none of them had been completely innocent or free of blame. Add in the hard, stressful times they all had been facing and it was nearly impossible to keep a grudge. (Talking to Draco, seeing his passion, though subdued, had opened her eyes. She finally saw Harry's point of view when he'd argued that Malfoy had acted out of desperation for his family's safety; how many of them wouldn't have done all they could to ensure that?)

It was hard to see the pointy pale git that taunted her in school after that. (Especially when he had matured so nicely. And he had looked so pained as he had remembered his immature, childishly cruel, ways.) As they talked, all she could see was a desperate man— _Veela_ —in a search of his other half and she felt her heart go out to him. By the time they were saying their farewells for the day, she had already decided to tell Draco where Harry lived (but hoped she could hold off on telling the blonde for awhile so she could learn more).

"Well, where shall I start?" she asked, arching an eyebrow and settling back in her chair. It was probably going to be a long call. When Harry looked unsure for a moment, she sighed softly and pushed her hair from her face.

"The beginning," Harry said with an eye roll.

Hermione rolled her eyes right back. "Draco is a Veela. He came to see me, desperate to find you. I nearly hexed him but he looked quite sincere and gutted at the chance I'd tell him to bugger off. He stood on my front porch, at wand-point, for nearly two hours explaining himself. We've been meeting up since then. Mostly because I'm curious and he's willing to talk to me. By the time we had been talking a few weeks, he was clearly agitated and getting restless about you. So, I finally told him where you were."

"What did he say to convince you?"

Hermione pursed her lips, thinking. "It wasn't just one thing, Harry. He was so sincere! I've never seen the man show an emotion. Ever. It was nearly heartbreaking." Also, after thorough research into Veela, she had been more than thrilled to allow Draco the chance to see Harry. Her friend deserved that chance at love, protection and a family. Being mated to a Veela would probably be the best thing that ever happened to her friend.

"Draco can—and _will_ —offer you everything you've ever wanted, Harry. And with a single-minded devotion I truly believe him capable of, especially once I spoke to him." She nodded, making sure Harry knew she was serious and quite convinced. It had been shocking to realize it was Malfoy, the git. She was realistic enough to know Harry would need time, some convincing, but she felt sure her friend wouldn't immediately refuse.

"Alright," Harry said quietly. He had seen the way the blonde's face animated and brightened with emotion first hand. It wasn't something he had seen before either and he could see how it would've been persuasive. He didn't know how to address the other things Hermione brought up, so he didn't. But it sent strange emotions through him, tightening his chest a bit with a fierce feeling of _I want that_. He cleared his throat, a little surprised to realize he had to swallow a few times before he could speak again.

"Why did you agree to the chaperoning thing?" he asked after a few moments of silence, both apparently had been in their own thoughts.

Hermione went into a fit of giggles, unable to help herself, covering her mouth with her hand. "I should have known you'd make him go through some hoops."

She hadn't truly been sure if Harry would've just jumped into the whole thing with both feet or not. It was rather sweet he was allowing Draco the chance to court him properly. He would probably need the time to adjust and get used to everything. And to allow himself the chance to get to know Draco. She nearly cooed at the idea; the books she read said a stronger bond they shared before they Bonded, the deeper the connection would be. She was almost jealous. From an academic standpoint, mind.

"I offered because I thought it would make it easier on you to have a friendly face around."

"Thanks, 'Mione," Harry said sincerely, smiling a little. "I would much prefer you to Mrs. Malfoy."

Hermione giggled again, nodding. "I feel I should warn you— Draco seems like a bit of a mummy's boy. The way he spoke about his mother, I got the impression he would do anything for her approval and happiness. As long as it didn't conflict with his Veela... things." Or his mate, she thought but didn't add. Thankfully, Draco had mentioned that his mother had been thrilled (as much as Narcissa Malfoy showed such an emotion, anyway) when he had finally revealed to his parents that he had found his mate and who it was.

"So. When are you going to see him again?" she asked, leaning forward with an eager look on her face. She was looking forward to see how the two interacted, and it wasn't entirely for academic reasons. She wanted to make sure, regardless of her gut instincts, she hadn't made a huge mistake. Plus, she was really curious to see if Draco went all gooey and smitten whenever he saw Harry.

"Whenever you're free, I suppose," Harry said carefully. He could see, even through the green tinge of the floo, amusement sparkling in Hermione's eyes. He wasn't sure if he liked that the situation was amusing for the witch. "Apparently, he's looking forward to seeing me at least twice a week."

Hermione nodded, she knew that. Draco had said as much, a hint of longing in his voice. She was surprised he hadn't managed to get Harry to agree to more time together. "You know I'm available whenever you need me. At least for the next few months," she said, patting her still flat abdomen. She didn't like the fact she was gently forced into a maternity leave so soon, but Ron had insisted when their healer said it would be for the best. At least she wasn't confined to a bed (yet). "When should I come over?"

"Uhm," Harry hummed and looked down. "I guess after lunch? We'll really have to work out some sort of schedule so we don't have to keep playing floo tag."

Hermione laughed, "Good idea, Harry. I'll floo Draco and we'll stop by whenever he's ready. You'll be home?"

"Yeah," Harry sighed. He was practically always home. He didn't work but he was completing his Muggle and wizarding education through the mail and owl-post. He hoped to become a teacher. He was thankful he could do it from home so he didn't have to leave Teddy for long and he managed to find time to get what he needed done. He felt a bit bad he was so looking forward to Teddy starting school, but it would give him that much more time to study and get his course work done. Plus, Teddy was practically vibrating with excitement at being mature enough to go to school. "Whenever you're able to, come on over."

Hermione nodded and shut of the connection with a final wave at Harry. She threw floo powder, feeling slightly giddy when she called out 'Malfoy Manor!'. She never thought she'd be doing such a thing, especially not with a smile on her face. Draco immediately answered, eagerly kneeling on the floor in front of the floo. "Hi Draco!" she chirped, twiddling her fingers at the bent over Veela. She nearly giggled at the look on his face; it was part disappointment that she wasn't Harry and part hope she had news _from_ Harry.

"Hermione," Draco said, inclining his head in greeting. He squirmed, anxious and cautiously optimistic. He hoped she was calling about Harry... "How are you?"

Hermione smiled, enjoying the blonde's barely restrained eagerness probably more than she should. It was almost cute to see him acting in such a way. "I'm good. I just got done talking with Harry. He—"

"Yes? How is he? Can I see him?"

Hermione giggled and waved a hand. "He's fine and yes. When are you free?"

"Now!" Draco nearly yelled. He leaned back and cleared his throat, grateful the floo wouldn't show the tinge of pink on his cheeks. "Whenever you're ready, I'm available," he said in a calmer tone. He stood calmly, viciously squashing the urge to leap right into the floo with a running jump. He didn't need to see Hermione laugh at him. Or land in an ungraceful heap on Harry's hearth.

Hermione nodded and carefully stood. "Right. Come on through, and we'll head to Harry's."

"Thank you," Draco said, his voice heavy with gratitude. "One moment," he murmured and hurried off to grab a wrapped package from the desk. He held it tightly, hoping that Harry would enjoy his gift. He squashed the urge to second guess himself and beg Hermione for more ideas or approval, but he wanted to pick the perfect gifts on his own from now on. It would show Harry how much he cared and how well he knew him. Hopefully. He grabbed the floo powder and stepped through, landing with his usual grace on Hermione's hearth. "Hermione," he greeted cordially, inclining his head politely.

Hermione rolled her eyes and carefully enveloped the blonde Veela in a gentle hug. "We're going to be stuck spending time together, so you might as well get over this whole 'polite, aloof' greeting nonsense. I'm a hugger," she said, smirking a bit. She was probably a little evil to enjoy Draco's discomfort, but he hugged back. Stiffly, with a careful, single pat on her back before he pulled back, but he had hugged back so it was definitely a start.

"Right. Yes. Thank you," Draco said, clearing his throat. He didn't mind the contact (even if it did feel a little uncomfortable touching someone, that wasn't Harry, like that) but he wasn't sure how the witch felt about him. He was rather sure she was only putting up with him for Harry's sake. Which he could accept, really—it was better than nothing.

Hermione smiled warmly. "Ready then?" Draco nodded and she threw the floo powder in, nudging him through first. She followed, stumbling as she usually did and smiled gratefully when Draco caught her before she could stumble too badly and fall. "Thank you." She looked around with a slight frown, unsure why they were alone. "Harry?" she called out. A flurry of rushing small feet answered her call and she was nearly knocked over, again caught by Draco, when Teddy ran at her with his little arms open.

"Aunt Hermione!" Teddy shouted, hugging the witch around the knees. He squeezed gently, taking care not to make her wobble and fall. He looked up, beaming a smile. "I missed you!"

Hermione leaned down as best she could and hugged Teddy back. "Hi, Teddy. I missed you, too. I brought a friend," she said, jerking her head towards a nervous, stiff looking Draco. "Have you met yet?"

"Yeah!" Teddy said excitedly, releasing Aunt Hermione to move onto Mr. Draco. He hugged the blonde around the knees, as well. He giggled softly when Mr. Draco made a breathless _oomph_ noise and wobbled a little. He didn't even jump! "Hi, Mr. Draco!" He let go and started bouncing on his toes, his hair flashing wildly between a bright pink, bushy golden brown and pale blonde. "Are you here to see Harry-daddy?"

Draco paused, a bit thrown by the exuberant greeting and nodded slowly. He hadn't expected it, but it pleased him nonetheless. "I am. Is he about?"

"Uh huh," Teddy nodded and kept bouncing on his toes.

Hermione snickered. "And _where_ is he?" she prompted when Teddy made no attempt at continuing, just standing there bouncing and looking absolutely thrilled with life.

"Oh! I dunno," Teddy said and shrugged. "I was playin' so maybe Harry-daddy is studyin'?" he offered with another shrug. "He'll know I'm not in my room any min—"

Harry came down the steps in a hurry, his footsteps thudding down in rapid succession. It had taken him a moment to notice the charm alerting him that Teddy was no longer in his room and he dreaded to find out what sort of trouble the child had found. It only took Teddy seconds to get into mischief. "Teddy—" He came to a stop just inside the small living room. "Oh!" he breathed, a blush exploding across his cheeks when he caught sight of Draco. It took him a moment to realize Hermione was there as well. He hadn't honestly expected them to visit so soon. He squirmed a little, unsure how to react. He was pleased but he didn't exactly want to show it.

"Harry," Draco greeted warmly, smiling a little and bowing formally at the waist.

Harry stared at the Veela before looking at Hermione. He scowled when she gave him a cheeky wave of her fingers and looked expectantly at him. What the hell? He nearly slapped his forehead when he realized he should mimic the Veela. "Draco," he returned and bowed as well. It was a quick jerk of his head mostly, not nearly as graceful as Draco's, but it seemed to please the blonde immensely. He was almost positive he heard a brief, soft crooning sound...

"Are you well?" Draco asked, looking only at Harry. He knew there were other people in the room, of course, but he was having a hard time taking his attention off of Harry. It felt like ages since he had seen the wizard last and he nearly twitched with the urge to go over and touch him (flutter his fingers over his pinked cheekbones or card a hand through his messy hair). Not that he would; he wasn't sure Harry would appreciate that just yet. It seemed all the years apart had finally caught up with him and he eagerly drank in the sight of Harry, in the flesh, before him. It went a ways in soothing an ache he had been able to ignore before.

Harry blinked and nodded jerkily. He didn't understand why he had the urge to close the gap between himself and Draco. Maybe even touch the blonde... He smiled shyly. "I'm good. You?"

"Quite well, thank you," Draco said and smiled. He finally turned to Hermione and looked expectantly at the witch. He fought the urge to scowl when she giggled and nodded at him. It was _not_ funny. He didn't bother wasting any more time or energy on the witch and swiftly crossed the room. He slowly reached down and took Harry's hand. When the wizard made no move to jerk away, he lightly kissed the back of Harry's hand, brushing his lips against his knuckles. He tightened his grip a little and was resisting the urge to brush the man's knuckles across his cheek again. Or run his nose along the side of Harry's neck—right where he could see his pulse thrumming under his skin. He carefully let go of Harry's hand.

Harry watched the greeting and swallowed thickly. How odd was it to have that small gesture turn him on and make him nearly turn into a puddle of goo at the same time? He smiled warmly when Draco looked up, a questioning, unsure expression on his face that melted away when he saw the smile. He was going to have to work on a way to, subtly, let Draco know he didn't mind being touched, even if it wasn't exactly allowed. "So."

"Yes," Draco said and cleared his throat. He reached into his pocket and removed another box. This one was relatively plain, white and tied closed with a thin piece of green ribbon. He extended the box to Harry, pleased when the other man took it with a small, but happy smile and a 'thank you'. He gently tapped the box with his wand, bringing the gift to its proper size.

Harry eyed the box curiously and untied the ribbon, very aware of three sets of eyes watching him (one pair intently). He opened the box and looked up, confused. "Uhm. Thank you?" he said, trying to keep the question out of his tone and striving for polite. He was confused; unsure what to make of the large bag of yellowy-beige pebbles. They were pretty, but he didn't know what he was meant to do with them. Was this some sort of Veela thing?

"It's a Muggle sweet," Draco explained with a smile. "A jelly bean, I believe they're called— quite like Bertie Bott's, only not as dubiously flavored," he added with a grin. "When I saw they made a Treacle Tart flavor, well..." he trailed off and fought the urge to blush. He hoped the gift was appropriate and appreciated.

He had spent a bit of time watching Harry in school and noticed the other man's nearly unhealthy obsession with the treat (but no real preference for other sweets). He was sure there wasn't a meal that Harry didn't manage to get a serving of Treacle Tart in his face (though he always wondered how the other boy had managed to get the dessert during breakfast and lunch). He now realized it was most likely due to his never having such a thing before and it prompted the massive package of sweets Harry now held.

It was only a small start to the many things he had planned to give the man, hoping to make up for past slights and times Harry went without. He felt pride, affection and a happy feeling of warmth wriggle through him when Harry's eyes lit up and his fingers pressed against the box a bit more, apparently more inclined to keep the box close now that he knew what it contained.

Harry felt something bubble happily— _warmly_ — in his chest and he carefully closed the box. He didn't know if he was allowed to touch Draco (a hug or a chaste kiss on the cheek, _some_ thing, had to be acceptable, right?) to show how much he enjoyed the gift. "Thank you," he said, infusing as much gratitude as he could into his voice. It was quite a simple, almost silly gift, but he appreciated it greatly nonetheless. He realized he liked that Draco knew small things about him.

"You do like it?" Draco pressed, watching in confusion as Harry immediately closed the package back up with careful movements. He had hoped Harry would sample one, if only to ensure they were as delicious as he hoped they be. He didn't try the Muggle sweet himself, so he was unsure of the quality and accuracy of the flavor.

Harry nodded and held the box to his chest. He shifted his hold, blushing a bit, when he realized he was very nearly cradling the box. "I do, thank you, Draco."

"Aren't you going to try one?" Draco blurted. He watched as Harry cheeks pinked lightly as he nodded and opened the box again. Nimble fingers unwound the strange wiry tie and he watched closely with interest as Harry lifted one of the pale yellow ovals up and popped it in his mouth. He suppressed a groan as Harry's tongue flicked against his own fingers; there was no little chance Harry would appreciate his overt sexual interest at the moment (not that he could act on them even if Harry did).

Harry rolled the jelly bean around his mouth a few times and then chewed it slowly. It was incredible! It tasted just like a treacle tart! He didn't know Muggles could do such a thing without the aid of magic but he was glad for their sweet-making talents. The jelly bean was so small, he couldn't imagine how many he could eat before he got tired of them—if he ever did. He eyed the massive bag; even if he pigged out on the sweets, such a large bag would last him for quite some time. Draco was leaning close, watching him intently. "It's good," he said lamely. _Good_ was an understatement but it would have to do.

"Excellent," Draco managed to get out. He was still a bit preoccupied with the near sex-like moans Harry had been making as he chewed and sucked on his treat. He was sure the other man wasn't even aware he was doing it, though. "I'm pleased you enjoyed them." He smiled warmly as Harry hugged the box again. He found it easy to ignore Hermione's presence as he sat down in the closest seat to Harry and just contented himself with being there in his presence. He watched, smiling a little, as Harry offered one of his sweets to Teddy. He had hoped Harry would keep them all for himself but he should have known better—the man couldn't be selfish, it seemed. And he really couldn't begrudge the man sharing with his son.

Teddy eagerly took the candy and popped it in his mouth, chewing rapidly. He wrinkled his nose and made a face, his tongue poking out. "Eww."

"Well, good," Harry said laughing and patting his box. "You don't have to like them. They're mine. More for me," he said and childishly stuck out his tongue. He chuckled when Teddy merely grumbled and flopped onto the sofa on Draco's other side.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco took every opportunity to visit Harry.

Most times, he saw the man (as well as Teddy and Hermione) more than twice a week. It wasn't every day, only every other day, but he didn't think it would be out of the question for their time together to be daily within in the next week or so. If it wasn't for the sodding 'chaste touch' rule, he'd have already succumbed to Harry's silent plea to sleep over a night or two.

It wasn't often, and it had only happened twice now, but he'd been there late enough he could see the wizard about to suggest he kip on the couch or the spare room... He wouldn't have, of course, but he felt damn near weightless when he apparated home those nights; floating on a cloud of happiness and contentment. For the first time, he felt separated from his inner being and it was with extreme bemusement to realize his Veela, was apparently a Hufflepuff. It was a bit gross, really. Either way, he gave himself complete permission to revel in the feeling.

Each time he visited, in keeping with his courtship, he brought Harry a gift. He didn't care how many he had given so far (and would continue to give); he just adored Harry's expression. There was still that look of silent wonder and pleasure. And Harry accepted his gifts with a growing ease that was almost (finally) edging towards eagerness. The gifts, generally, we small trinkets or boxes of candy (Muggle and Wizard varieties) he knew Harry liked. Occasionally he'd get something knowing Harry would share it with Teddy and Hermione... and he did it happily. He liked them well enough, but it was mainly due to the heated looks Harry would give him, generally when he thought he wasn't being observed.

He shouldn't be surprised a wizard like Harry would get turned on by his thoughtfulness, but it had still been a pleasant surprise. Even if it hadn't garnered _that_ reaction from Harry, he still would have been pleased to see Hermione and Teddy smile from something he picked out and gave to his mate.

Tonight, though, he was hoping he could give Harry something more ornate and have it be accepted just as easily as chocolate frogs and Muggle jelly beans. He'd planned an evening out; dinner and dancing. It had taken some persuasion, Harry claiming he couldn't dance, but he had finally gotten his way when he stepped close enough for their noses to nearly touch and he'd murmured 'please'. Magic word indeed... Harry had immediately caved, looking torn between embarrassment, arousal and chagrined all at the same time. (Draco had to swiftly leave the kitchen, lest he do something untoward.)

He knocked on the front door and couldn't quell the urge to fidget with his robes as he waited. It felt odd to be at the front door, not unlike the first time he had seen Harry again in almost four years. He knew it was some sort of dating etiquette to knock instead of coming through the floo... he didn't even care that it was probably Muggle in origin. It did add a certain pleasant edge to the wait.

Draco looked up and smiled when he heard the door opening. "Hello."

"Draco," Harry said, sounding breathless. He was going to pretend it was from his quick jog to get the door and not mere the sight of Draco, wearing elegant dress robes and looking positively gorgeous. He stared, enjoying the way the blonde's robes were tailored to perfectly hug his broad shoulders and draping almost lovingly across and down his chest. He jumped when Draco cleared his throat and gave him a charming, roguish smile. "Oh! Sorry!" He moved aside, hoping it was dim enough Draco didn't see his flushed face. "Come in."

Draco nodded and brushed past Harry, letting his fingers flutter lightly over the other man as he passed. He nodded to Hermione as he walked into the kitchen. He bent down and accepted the boisterous hug from Teddy, well used to the little boy's way of greeting by now. He looked forward to seeing Teddy almost as much as he did Harry. He adored the little boy, enjoying spending time with him and teaching him anything that came to mind. Teddy was already quite adept at chess, beating Harry on their first game.

"Good evening, Teddy," he said, making the little boy giggle.

"Hi, Mr. Draco."

Draco nodded, no longer bothering to ask Teddy to drop the 'Mr.' from his address. Teddy insisted, citing it as being more respectful. "Are you ready to escort me and your Harry-daddy to dinner?" he asked importantly. Hermione was coming along too but he couldn't say no when Teddy had asked to chaperone one of their outings, his little chest puffed out proudly with the responsibility. He probably couldn't have said no even if he had planned something wildly romantic; Teddy was hard to say no to.

"Yeah!" Teddy said and then ran from the room to finish getting dressed. He wanted to wear fancy robes and shiny shoes, too. Just like Mr. Draco.

Harry chuckled and leaned against the door frame, smiling warmly at Draco. It wasn't their first official date out, but it was the fanciest so far and he couldn't be more excited. Teddy was acting as their unofficial chaperone, along with Hermione. He smiled when Draco extended his hand, giving him a box. He no longer bothered to argue and simply took it with a smile, letting his fingers brush against Draco's palm as he took it. It was probably bending the rules a bit, since there were no chaste intentions behind the touch, but he was having an increasingly harder time keeping his hands to himself.

Especially as he spent more time with the Veela. He was only human and the overtly adoring (and subtly heated) looks affected him. He was learning a lot about the blonde the past few weeks and he _liked_ what he learned. Plus, he liked watching Draco and Teddy interact. It wasn't a false warmth when Draco spoke with and spent time with Teddy and he was surprised to find it arousing as hell. He wasn't sure how he was going to make it through the next 10 days or so. And even then, he hadn't any real clue what sort of 'touching' would be allowed.

He slowly opened the box and gasped, nearly dropping it. "Draco," he whispered, shaking his head slightly. He sighed softly, fully aware he couldn't refuse the expensive gift without offending the blonde. It was probably more due to him being a Malfoy than a Veela, but it still made things difficult when he was overwhelmed by a 'trinket' and wanted to give it back.

"Don't you like it, Harry?" Draco asked softly, stepping closer, peering into the box.

It was a Muggle pen set. A very costly Muggle pen set. He wanted to get Harry something nice but _useful_ ; something he could spend a rather ridiculous amount of money on but couldn't be refused due to its practicality. He had managed to find the most expensive set but didn't get that one. He felt it was a bit... over the top to spend nearly half a million pounds on a pen set (even if he _did_ think Harry was worth it).

He settled for a fine set, in a beautiful emerald and platinum scheme; the emeralds lining the upper part of the pen's barrel in an artfully scattered pattern. It was merely a happy coincidence the coloring suited Harry as well as reflected that of his old House—Slytherin. He was pretty sure both were genuine materials; at least, they should be for the cost of the set. Harry was worth it, of course. He looked up into wide green eyes and smiled. "It's only a pen set."

Harry snorted softly and gently stroked along one of the green barrels. Merlin, it was practically glowing from the inside with a gorgeous green fire. It was almost _too_ nice to even consider using. " _Only a pen set_ ," he muttered. He knew exactly what he was looking at. He wouldn't refuse, though. It would be rude and... Well, he _did_ want them. He never had something so nice before. "Thank you," he said softly, lifting his gaze to give Draco a smile.

"You're welcome, Harry," Draco said warmly. He was very pleased to see Harry accepting the gift with little reluctance. "I do hope they come in handy."

Harry laughed and closed the box with a soft snap. "They will. I'll feel very silly doing my class work with a Mont Blanc, but I know it'll look smashing when I'm done." He looked up when Teddy bounced into the room, wearing a very nice outfit that was just this shy of actually fitting him properly. He snickered as Teddy pulled down the slightly too-short sleeves and fiddled with his little tie. "I don't think you'll need the tie, Teddy." He didn't comment about the tight fit of the clothes, knowing Teddy wouldn't care.

"But—" Teddy pouted and looked between Harry-daddy and Mr. Draco. Neither of them were wearing ties anymore, but they did still look quite posh. They both had been wearing fancy dressy robes and everything! "I don' have anythin' else nice to wear," he finally said. He squirmed a bit, his trousers were a bit tight. He hadn't worn them since Christmas.

Harry chuckled and walked over to Teddy, removing the little boy's tie gently. He almost regretted not getting Teddy's new holiday outfit, so the little boy could wear that. "You look very dapper, without the tie." He rolled it up and left it laying on the side table. "Did you want to match?" he finally asked, realizing Teddy's problem. He had removed his robe and was now wearing a pair of dark washed jeans, a button up and a sweater vest. He had felt like a nerd in it, annoyed at Hermione for shoving the clothes at him insistently, until he saw Draco wearing something similar once he had taken off his robes. Teddy nodded enthusiastically and he plucked the tie up, transfiguring it into a matching sweater vest—in a lovely sapphire color since it was Teddy's favorite. He chuckled when he got an approving nod. "There."

"Cool!" Teddy cheered and hurriedly wriggled into the sweater. "Thanks!" He smoothed it down, beaming proudly between Harry-daddy and Mr. Draco. He _did_ match (even if they all had different colors on, they all matched shapes) and he felt much better. He didn't know how to keep his hair though and he frowned a little. He liked matching Harry-daddy but Mr. Draco always looked proud when he matched him, too. He sidled over to Aunt Hermione, tugging lightly on her skirt until she leaned down. "I don't know who to match," he whispered, nervously wringing his hands when she turned her head to look at him.

Hermione went to comment that he matched them both before she realized what Teddy meant, widening her eyes a bit when she noticed his hair flickering between messy black and smooth, fine pale blonde. She smiled warmly at the little boy and hugged him impulsively. "Whichever you like, Teddy. Both look brilliant."

"Oh." Teddy frowned a little again and closed his eyes, finally letting his hair settle on a dirty blonde that was nearly his natural color. He liked matching but this way no one would be sad if he picked the wrong one. He bounced over to Harry-daddy and grabbed his hand. "Ready," he announced.

Harry nodded, bending over to give Teddy's temple a kiss before nodding to Draco. He didn't know where they were going and needed the blonde to lead them. He didn't protest at all when Draco picked up Teddy and sidled closer, an arm sliding around his waist.

"Side-along," Draco explained softly. He could have floo'd them, but he eagerly took the excuse to touch the wizard. He grinned when Harry just looked up at him with a slight smirk on his face. "Hermione," he called over to the witch. He held in a snicker when she rushed over and grabbed onto his elbow, poking Harry none-too-gently to shift them apart a little. "Hold on." He closed his eyes and concentrated. He hadn't side-alonged so many before and he did not want to risk splinching any of them. They landed a bit roughly, but his grip tightened on all of them, his arm coming from around Harry to grab Hermione steady as well.

Hermione was the first to let go of the odd little group hug and looked around. She whistled lowly and elbowed Draco playfully, grinning up at the Veela. "Nice," she praised. She wasn't familiar with the place but it looked Muggle. Muggle, and posh, but family oriented. She turned around just in time to see Harry trying to sneak a kiss and lightly whacked the back of his head. She wagged a finger at him, stoically ignoring his sheepish puppy-eyes. "I don't think so, mister." She was taking her role as chaperone seriously. She didn't want any small detail to go wrong and compromise their chances of Bonding later.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, rubbing his head and giving Draco an apologetic look. Mostly for being caught and thwarted. He tried not to pout when Draco unwound his arm and nodded at him before turning to Hermione. He was starting to dislike the whole courting thing, even if he did ask for it. He sighed softly and followed Draco into the restaurant, nodding along as Teddy chatted at him excitedly. Yes, the place was big. Yes, the place was fancy. Yes, they would have the best chicken fingers ever. He smiled as Draco held the door for them.

He did notice the dance floor and he only hoped dancing was allowed in The Rules.

.|.

Harry looked up, startled, when his floo chimed. His eyebrows rose in surprise and confusion before quickly pinching in concern when Draco stumbled through a moment later, landing on his hands and knees. He put down the book he was reading and quickly sat up. "Draco?"

"Harry," Draco panted softly, still on all fours. He felt dizzy and disoriented but relieved he had been able to reach Harry. He felt his arms shake with the effort of holding himself up and gracelessly rolled onto his back with a grunt and a long exhale. He tried to blink his eyes back into focus but it only made room appear to spin and he had to close his eyes shut tightly before he got nauseous.

Harry rushed over, kneeling next to the prone Veela, his hands skimming a few inches over this body unsure if he should touch or not. He'd never seen Draco fall through the floo— _ever_ ; even the time he'd indulged in a bit too much wine and 'drunk floo'd'—and he was paler than usual. Draco's eyes were closed, showing the dark purple tinge to the delicate skin, and he was breathing unsteadily.

"Draco? Are you OK?" He knew it was stupid to ask the moment the words left his mouth, but he didn't know what else to say.

"Not really," Draco murmured, willing his heart rate to slow the hell down and his eyes to open. He could hear the panic in Harry's voice and he didn't want his wizard to be panicking. He was hit with a wave of annoyance when he realized he had left Harry's gift on his chair in the Manor in his disoriented state and haste to get here. He groaned, both in discomfort and aggravation. "Bugger," he muttered.

Harry leaned down and shook Draco's shoulder before cupping his face, not thinking about the no touching rule. "What's wrong?" he asked, trying not to panic when Draco's eyes fluttered closed again and his breathing stuttered as he made a noise in the back of his throat. He nearly let go, thinking he was causing the Veela discomfort or pain but one of Draco's hands came up and covered his, keeping him in place.

"I forgot your gift," Draco murmured, trying not to nuzzle into Harry's hands and losing. He sighed happily, even though it was a bit shaky, and felt his heart-rate finally start to slow a bit. He felt Harry's fingers jerk, as if he was going to pull away again, and he quickly—but gently—laid his other hand over Harry's as well. "Please don't," he whispered, his eyes sliding closed again. He hadn't thought going without Harry's touch for so long would affect him so. Well, he had hoped anyway. "I need another few moments."

Harry nodded, even though Draco couldn't see him. He left his hands where they were and adjusted his position on his knees so he was more comfortable. He stared down at the prone Veela and felt his chest constrict when he realized Draco looked like hell. It had only been a little over a day since he last saw the blonde. He was pale and he had dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn't been sleeping. His hair was a bit limp but still beautiful. He flushed, grateful Draco's eyes were closed, at the last thought. He gently moved his hands, shushing Draco when he went to protest, so one was in pale hair and the other cupped the side of Draco's neck. He smiled when Draco made a happy little sound of contentment and relaxed fully into his touch.

"Thank you, Harry. I'm sorry if I worried you," Draco said quietly, his eyes still closed. He was enjoying the moment too much to move, but he felt much better. He felt Harry shift around but the hands didn't move. He wasn't exactly comfortable laying on the floor but he wouldn't move for anything, not as long Harry's hand stayed plastered to his body. Merlin, it felt amazing and it was steadily soothing every ache and pain that had accumulated over the past few weeks.

"What happened?" Harry asked, looking at Draco intently. The blonde was starting to get a bit of color back in his cheeks and his breathing was easing back to a normal rhythm. "Are you— Is this a Veela thing?" he asked, feeling a bit stupid for over-simplifying. It seemed a bit more serious to be called simply 'a Veela thing' but he didn't know how else to phrase it.

Draco sighed softly and opened his eyes, sliding his hand up Harry's arm before sliding back down and coming to a rest on the back of Harry's hand. "Yes," he said simply. "I, apparently, was a bit mistaken for how long I could go without touching you."

"Oh," Harry said softly. He shivered lightly when Draco's thumb brushed along the back of his hand, making his skin tighten pleasantly. "But, we have touched," he said quietly, resisting the urge to look around guiltily for witnesses. Teddy was up napping and Hermione wasn't due over for another hour.

Draco chuckled softly, and brought Harry's hand up to his lips and kissed his palm, his lips lingering for a moment. Thankfully, he was recovered enough to resist the temptation to run his tongue along Harry's Heart Line, but it was rather difficult. "Not for any length of time and not usually skin to skin, Harry," he said quietly. "It's quite different and direct contact makes all the difference." He sighed and gently removed Harry's hands from him so he could sit up. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"You didn't," Harry denied immediately. "OK, maybe a little..." he admitted when Draco raised an eyebrow at him. He realized he had trailed off and he felt suddenly nervous and started to worrying the inside of his cheek with his teeth. "So, what do we do?" he asked, looking at Draco curiously. He had no problems if Draco needed a touch now and then. He certainly didn't want to have Draco falling through his floo every so often, weak and in need of a hands-on session. He didn't mind the hands-on part, but he didn't think he could handle seeing Draco that pale and weak again.

Draco hummed and carefully reached for Harry's hand, holding it between both of his and rubbing gently. Warmth and contentment flowed through him in a gentle wave and he closed his eyes to enjoy the blissful sensation. Harry didn't look at all bothered with the touching and he felt quite hopeful. He hadn't known how Harry would handle the information. "We will need to have minor, non-sexual, contact," he finally said.

"A-alright," Harry said, fighting the urge to squirm and flush at the words 'non-sexual'; even if they sounded innocent, they brought very vivid images to mind nonetheless. Images that were certainly _not_ 'non-sexual'. "How often?" he asked, looking up at Draco, curious. It had been almost three weeks since Draco had sat in his kitchen that first time. He wanted to ask if it would affect the courting thing, but he didn't really care at this point—not if it meant Draco's health. And he was figuring as long as the touches were 'chaste', Draco would have mentioned it if it was going to be an issue.

Draco hummed again. "I'm quite tempted to say daily," he said with a teasing grin. "But I think every other day should be sufficient. The few times I was able to sneak a hand hold or touch you wasn't enough. Is it alright if it's more... like this?" he asked, his eyes flicking down to where their hands were still clasped together tightly, Harry's hand sandwiched between his. He realized his thumb was stroking along Harry's knuckles but didn't bother to stop when he noticed Harry didn't mind.

"Yeah, that's fine," Harry said quickly. "Whatever you need is fine," he added, meeting Draco's eyes. "So... Is this part of why a Veela needs a mate?"

Draco pursed his lips a little and studied Harry for a long moment, deciding how to answer. He didn't think Harry was asking for any reason other than his natural curiosity (he nearly smiled when thinking of how often that got the other wizard into trouble). He already knew Harry wasn't going to deny their match. And he also knew the other man was too noble (and just generally good-hearted) to use the information for unpleasant reasons.

"Yes and no," Draco finally said, shrugging one shoulder gracefully. "A Veela needs a mate to complete them. It's hard to explain fully, but it's almost like we're a whole person, but only once we've found our mate. We're compatible in every aspect; mind, body, soul and magic." He watched Harry's face, warmth flooding his entire body when Harry nodded his understanding, a flush slowly staining his cheeks. Harry understood and not just because he was being told; he felt it, too. He nearly crooned at the very notion—it was _very_ encouraging.

"For the most part, a Veela can survive if we haven't found our mate. We can even be relatively content, if not happy, but never at our full potential. Once we find our mate, that's what we need. It's vital to our well-being and survival to be with them, Bond with them so we can share ourselves. Completely. If we're denied that, it's like suffering from a disease that eats away at our bodies and magic." He squeezed the hand in his when Harry's face pinched. He didn't want to make Harry feel bad, he was only explaining the importance a mate had for a Veela and why he was so very grateful to be given a chance with his.

"As for the touching," he said, his eyes flicking down to their still-joined hands for a moment. He wanted to stare, study and memorize the way their hands slotted together. His pale and long, Harry's tanned and strong. "It's a way for our magics to recognize each other and... fuse, in a way." He went silent, realizing Harry was looking somewhere over his left shoulder, looking lost in thought.

He wasn't going to interrupt Harry's speculation... but he was growing increasingly curious as to what Harry was thinking about and how he was taking everything he'd been told. He wasn't sure how long they had been sitting together on the floor, quietly holding hands, when Hermione stepped out of the floo. He gave the witch a welcoming smile, squeezing Harry's hand to get his attention. He cocked his head towards the floo when Harry's eyes flicked up to him, the other wizard blinking a few times as he registered Hermione's presence.

It was rather adorable to see Harry blush and he was immensely grateful (and thoroughly smitten) when the other man made no move to separate their hands.

Hermione studied the men on the floor, her eyebrows quirking upwards. "Should I be allowing this?" she finally asked, her eyes firmly on where the two men's hands were linked. It was, admittedly, cute to see them hold hands but she was concerned about her role in this sort of thing. She'd read the 'rules', of course, but they were frustratingly vague on what sort of contact was allowed (besides banning anything deemed sexual, that is). Plus, she knew Draco, as a Veela, was bound to need some contact with Harry to stabilize his magic as their bond grew. It was all very fascinating, if not a little confusing and conflicting.

"Yes," Draco said simply.

Harry cleared his throat, suddenly feeling like they'd been caught out. Even though they were only holding hands. "It's part of his Veela thing," he blurted, feeling his cheeks warm when Draco and Hermione both stared at him, both of them smirking at him at nearly the same time—in the same infuriating way that made him feel 12. "He needs me to touch him," he added. He groaned softly and dropped his head a little, avoiding both of their amused gazes when he realized how that sounded. "Shut up," he muttered when Draco started snickering. He nearly threatened to withhold his touch, but he smothered that urge. He liked it as much as the Veela appeared to and he wasn't about to punish himself for the blonde being a git.

"I see," Hermione said, hurrying across the room to sit in a chair by the pair on the floor. "And what happens if you don't touch each other?" She paused, tapping her chin. "How often do you need to touch each other?"

Harry groaned again, "Stop saying it like that!"

"Well, it's true. How else am I supposed to say it?" Hermione asked with a huff. She'd be amused by Harry's embarrassment (like any good friend would) but she was being denied information and that trumped anything else. So, she ignored Harry (pointedly turning away from him sticking his tongue out childishly), and looked at Draco. "Well?"

Draco cleared his throat, and decided to tell the witch whatever she wanted to know. Hermione could be trusted not to abuse the knowledge and he knew she'd pester and hound him until she got answers. Normally, he could respect that in a person but it bemused him when he was the focus of such tenacity. He shifted a bit in his position on the floor. It wasn't very comfortable but he wasn't about to get up just yet, even if Hermione was not a witness.

"I feel physical effects, not quite unlike withdrawal symptoms." He nodded when Hermione gasped softly, her hand covering her mouth as her eyes went wide. "Yes. Quite unpleasant, that. And I'm not sure how often—we'll have to sort of experiment and see how it goes."

"Does it affect your courtship rules?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes slightly. She felt justified in being a little overly dramatic about it; both men knew she was always one to take responsibility seriously. And this was very serious.

"No, as long as the touches are chaste."

Hermione nodded, appeased and pleased. "Alright then. Keep it above the belt and I won't have to hex you boys apart," she said with a grin. She laughed with delight when Harry groaned again. "Right," she said, clapping her hands. "You—" She turned to Draco, "go get presentable." She turned to look at Harry, "And you—" She smiled, "When's dinner?"

"Blimey, 'Mione," Harry said, reluctantly letting go of Draco's hand so he could stand. He pouted a bit when Draco headed towards the floo. "Fine," he said with a sigh, getting up and stalking into the kitchen.

Draco watched Harry slam into the kitchen and raised an eyebrow, turning to Hermione expectantly. "Dare I ask?"

"Oh, he's just having a strop," Hermione said dismissively, waving a hand at Draco, used to Harry's moods. True, it had been awhile since he had such a childish pout session, but she figured he was due one. She looked at Draco from the corner of her eye and was pleased to see him looking thoughtful; good, he should know even the annoying sides of Harry. "Probably because he thinks you're leaving. Or because I ruined his fun," she added as an afterthought. Both were quite likely.

Draco hummed thoughtfully, his gaze sliding to the kitchen door. He was walking through it before he even realized he had moved. He winced when he heard the sharp sound of pots and pans being slammed around, the metal clanking loudly as they met the cooker or the counter. "Harry?" he called out, smothering a smirk when Harry jumped and whirled around. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," Harry said softly. He thought Draco had left. He felt rather annoyed the blonde had come only to feel him up and then leave. It didn't matter he was OK with it or that it was really just an extended hand holding session... he felt a little used. Which was completely ridiculous and only added to his irritation and fueled the urge to pout and kick things. "I thought you'd gone."

Draco tsked softly and stepped closer, smiling when Harry immediately closed the distance between them. He idly wondered if the wizard was even aware of doing it, but it thrilled him nonetheless that his mate felt drawn to him in return. His hand raised, hovered over Harry's chest, and then lowered again. No touching there; that wouldn't be chaste. He settled for letting his hand rest on Harry's forearm for a moment. He cleared his throat and shook his head a little, "No. I was merely going to retrieve your gift."

"Oh. Right," Harry murmured, feeling a bit silly. He did recall Draco babbling about a gift when he fell through his floo. "OK, well, go on then. I won't hold you up," he said, pressing against the Veela's chest lightly. He stepped closer, completely unaware of doing so, and let his hands gently stroke along the blonde's chest. It was firm and nicely muscled. He glanced down, his tongue quickly flicking from his top lip to his bottom lip as he stared. He jumped when the kitchen door banged open.

Hermione crossed her arms and tapped her toe. Merlin, these two were getting to be worse than a pair of seventh years discovering hidden alcoves and privacy wards! She idly wondered if she should stick a monitoring charm on the pair. "What's for dinner, Harry?"

"Uh," Harry cleared his throat and forced himself to take a step back, realizing what he had been doing was definitely not in the realm of 'chaste touching'. Well, it wouldn't have been in another moment when his palms had been itching to slide over Draco's nipples... "Chicken."

Hermione snickered. She wasn't sure which was funnier, Harry's blush or Draco's glazed over expression. She felt a bit bad she had to interrupt, they were grown men after all, but she held firm in her resolve to make sure nothing went wrong with their courtship and possibly their Bonding. "Wonderful," she said. She stepped forward and nudged Draco, poking the Veela in the shoulder. "You were going somewhere?" she prompted.

"Right!" Draco said with a start. "I'll be right back," he said, mostly to Harry. He hesitated for a moment before bending slightly to place a chaste kiss on Harry's cheek before rushing out of the kitchen and towards the floo. He groaned softly as he tossed the powder in; even just a kiss on the cheek send his senses reeling. His lips were still tingling pleasantly, warmed by the friction of light stubble and just the sensation of being on Harry's skin, when he called out 'Malfoy Manor' and disappeared in a whoosh of green.

Hermione glanced back at Harry, smiling when he blinked out of his daze and went back to the stove. He wasn't slamming pots and pans around, so that was a plus. "I just want you to know, I don't enjoy interrupting you, Harry." She moved to lean against the counter next to the stove, giving her friend an earnest look. "Really I don't. I can only imagine how frustrating it is."

Harry kept quiet, unsure how willing he was to admit that yes, it was frustrating. Two weeks ago he would have had a hard time admitting he even wanted to kiss the blonde and now... he was being driven crazy because he _couldn't_. He peeked at Hermione from the corner of his eye and sighed. Hermione was bright—there was no way she'd miss noticing that he was attracted to the Veela. But knowing Hermione, she knew and was pleased about it. She had been supportive from the start. "I know," he said simply.

"So, things are going well?" she prodded. She really hoped her instincts weren't wrong and Draco was good for her best friend. And that Harry was actually starting to fall for the Veela—not just lust after his fit body. It was one thing for Draco to already be half in love with Harry from the start, she wanted Harry to be able to return those feelings for Draco's sake (as well as his own). Which was odd to feel, but it was true; she liked the blonde well enough now she didn't want him hurt or stuck in a relationship that wasn't fulfilling.

Harry nodded, ducking his head a bit. "Yeah, things are going very well. Draco's... well, he's amazing, 'Mione. I never thought I'd say that, but there it is," he said, shrugging one shoulder and turning to gauge Hermione's reaction. She was beaming at him and he found himself relaxing. "He's funny, did you know? And charming. He's also very warm, when the situation is right. And he's great with Teddy," he said, practically all in one breath. He realized he was babbling and rolled his lips together.

"That's wonderful, Harry," Hermione said with a smile, gently squeezing Harry's arm in support and affection. "Really. I can't tell you how happy it makes me."

"He's still a bit of a prat though," Harry said, sounding amused instead of put out. It was oddly endearing to see Draco hadn't changed that much since he'd last seen him. And it helped he was a prat when appropriate, not just because he felt superior or got off on being a knob. He studied Hermione for a moment. "You're really OK with Draco? I mean, we haven't had the best history—"

"I really am," Hermione interrupted before Harry could get himself worked up. "First of all, he apologized. Secondly, he's your mate—there's not much I could really do about it, anyway. And thirdly? He's not the same scared kid we grew up with. Just as we aren't the same people." She watched Harry nod along with each point but his eyebrows were still pinched, as if he wasn't quit sure yet.

He was probably thinking of Ronald; her stubborn arse of a husband wasn't going around cursing Malfoy's existence any more but he was still adjusting to the knowledge Draco was sticking around—indefinitely. He'd been keeping his distance from them all. (She knew Harry preferred it that way. Even if it was obvious he missed his friend, it was a sight better than Draco and Ron snarking and sniping at each other whenever they were in the same room.)

The stubborn git. Honestly, the next time he said 'bloody Veela' she was seriously considering putting him on the couch for a week. Not only did it upset Draco with the constant friction, it was straining his friendship with Harry. She tried telling Ronald that if he kept on, he'd probably lose Harry's friendship because the chance he'd pick Ron over Draco was dwindling every day.

Harry sighed softly and turned from the stove, "It just feels so sudden."

"Harry," Hermione said with a snort. "You've known him since you were eleven-years-old. He's been the first—and pretty much _only_ —person to ever get under your skin. I think it all makes perfect sense," she said, crossing her arms and daring Harry to disagree with her. She raised an eyebrow when he went to open his mouth. "Honestly, Harry," she said and rolled her eyes, even though she was smiling. "There's no need to hide what you're feeling."

Harry cleared his throat and focused back on stirring random things. "I'm not." He peeked at Hermione from the corner of his eye, but not enough to see the kitchen door twitch open. "I'm not," he repeated, his eyes returning to watching the spoon move. He still wasn't good at talking about his feelings, so if he was going to make embarrassing declarations, he couldn't look at Hermione while he did so. And it felt a bit... wrong to be telling Hermione that sort of thing before he told Draco. "I do like him. _A lot_. And it's... it's just so..." he trailed off, shrugging helplessly.

"Unexpected?" Draco offered from the doorway.

Harry jumped, flushing darkly when he saw Draco standing by the kitchen door. His arms were crossed, a box tucked in his left hand still, but he was smiling warmly. The bright silvery gaze was warm, as well, and it made his entire body tingle and flush. "Yes," he whispered. "Is that— Does that upset you?" he asked, even though Draco didn't _look_ upset.

It couldn't feel great to know your feelings weren't returned, at least not as fiercely.

"No," Draco said and shook his head a little, amazed at Harry.

He had sprung the 'I'm-Your-Veela-Mate thing on the man mere weeks ago and Harry was concerned he would be upset they hadn't fallen madly in love yet? He was a realist and he was extremely surprised (and grateful) that Harry had warmed up as much as he already had. Considering their past, he never expected the other wizard to be able to stand him, let alone care about his feelings and show the beginnings of affection and attraction.

Draco slowly moved further into the kitchen. He held out the gift he held towards Harry.

Now that he had actually given it (well, he would be as soon as Harry's fingers closed over it), he was a little wary about how it would be received since overhearing Harry's confession. Oh well. He could not— _would not_ —take it back.

And, really, he'd never know otherwise, would he? He had to've been around Harry too much if he was willing to act like a reckless Gryffindor. (And why was that thought much less disturbing and bothersome?)


	6. Chapter 6

Draco smiled when Harry immediately set his spoon down and turned, moving closer and taking the proffered gift with a gentle touch he always used when receiving a gift from him. He watched closely as Harry moved back enough to lean against the counter and removed the minimal wrappings with his usual care. It pleased him more than he could say that Harry no longer dithered about with the gifts; he was especially pleased to see a faint rosy glow on Harry's face, as well.

Hopefully it was a pleased flush from his gift and not the residual effects of Harry's earlier... temper tantrum. Either way, he was having a difficult time keeping his hand from reaching up and stroking along the flushed skin.

One thing Draco had learned from watching Harry open gifts was less was better; the less intricately he wrapped them, the better it was. Quicker too; the entire exchange happened that much faster and reached the satisfactory conclusion. He hadn't exactly learned to master the art of patience... at least, not when it came to Harry. And Harry took his sweet time unwrapping gifts. On one hand, he understood the behavior, but on the other? He wanted Harry to tear it open eagerly so he could see Harry's reaction to his gift that much sooner.

He smiled when Harry set aside the intricately tied bow, after he had taken care to gently ease it off the box, and slowly cracked the box open. As he had expected, Harry's eyes widened. Also, as he had expected, Harry's entire body seemed to flush and he heard a soft gasp.

Harry could feel Hermione leaning in closer, obviously wanting a peek at the gift. It took every ounce of his restraint not to push the witch away or snarl at her. This was _his_ and she had no business looking (she'd want to _touch_ it, he just knew it). He blinked stupidly, unsure where such a reaction came from. He looked up and met Draco's eyes, frowning a little when there was a knowing sort of glint in them.

"Is this... Is this what I think it is?" He finally asked in a shaky, soft voice. He looked back down, staring with slightly wide eyes, and realized he was gently tracing the pad of his fingertip along a smooth, shiny edge; he quickly tucked his finger against his palm and looked back up at Draco.

Draco nodded slowly and reached out, picking up the bonding cuff from the silk pillow it had been resting on. He wasn't sure how he felt about Harry's reluctance to touch the cuff, but he was pleased Harry hadn't pushed it away. Or try to put it on himself. He didn't know if Harry knew the way it was supposed to happen or if he was just that apprehensive. No help for it; it was presented now and he couldn't dawdle.

He felt himself flush with warmth when Harry's beautiful green eyes didn't leave the cuff—like they were drawn there and glued to it. The wizard merely looked curious, if not a little awed as well—not scared or upset; which was very good. A step in the right direction and a bright,warm feeling of hope squirmed through him. "Yes, it is, Harry."

"Oh. Alright," Harry said in a breathed rush. Both in acceptance and to confirm he understood. He glanced down again, looking at the bonding cuff closely. It was some sort of soft grey metal (probably platinum) and there were a few scattered diamonds along the surface. It took a moment for him to realize they were laid out in the Draco constellation and he felt everything side him warm. There was ornate lettering engraved along both edges, all the way around. He didn't understand the language or the words but the effect softened the hardened look of the metal and made it look beautiful, almost delicate, yet very... official.

All in all, he realized he couldn't wait to have it on his arm...

He knew what the gift of a bonding cuff meant (Hermione had insisted he read anything she could get her hands on about courting, bonding and Veela) and he felt a curious sort of anticipation wriggle through him instead of panic or even fear. He couldn't take his eyes away from the cuff, following it as Draco lifted it from the box and gently pressed it against his wrist. Draco didn't slip it on—it was just held it there, probably so their magics could slowly intermingle. The metal was warm and he gasped softly when it made contact with his skin. He dragged his gaze away from the thick band of metal and met Draco's eyes again.

"What now?" Harry asked in a whisper.

He didn't know why he was whispering; it just felt like the sort of thing he should be doing. He saw a hint of amusement in Draco's eyes but he didn't know what was amusing the Veela and he didn't want to ask. He forced his eyes to move away from Draco's and saw that Hermione was still in the kitchen but she'd taken several steps back. Which was odd.

He really would've expected her to step closer; to watch and observe every detail.

"Strong magic," Hermione said, sounding a little breathless herself. It was amazing, really. The moment Draco had touched the Veela bonding cuff to Harry, a strong aura of magic had surrounded the pair and she found herself unconsciously backing up, even though she had wanted to get closer. She realized Teddy had come in the kitchen as well and she laid an arm over his shoulders, gently holding him against her side. "Should we leave?" she asked, looking mainly at Draco but asking both of them.

Harry looked a little flushed and she could only imagine how embarrassed he'd be if things got a little... intense.

"No," Draco said softly, turning just enough to meet Hermione's eyes for a moment and give her a smile. "Mother should be here in a moment as well," he added. "Family needs to be present," he said, turning back to Harry and missing the stunned expression on Hermione's face. He nodded when Harry's eyes widened slightly and he stepped a little closer. If Harry accepted the bonding cuff, he could be as close as he wanted to be. The very notion made his pulse pick up and his head swim pleasantly for a moment.

Harry swallowed nervously and nodded. "OK," he muttered. He didn't know what was going to happen but if the sensations going through his body got any more intense, it was going to be mortifying to go through with this with an audience. Especially since it consisted of their family (and Hermione, who was as good as family). He leaned close enough to be able to whisper in Draco's ear, hoping to Merlin that Hermione couldn't hear him, "Is— Are we going to—" He cut himself off, on the verge of babbling, and swallowed thickly. "What's going to happen?"

"Nothing as embarrassing as what you're thinking," Draco murmured. His voice was rough with anticipation and emotion. His entire body tingled from the close proximity of Harry and his warm breath tickling the skin of his neck. He cleared his throat and gave Harry a warm smile. "I ask. You accept. We kiss. It's supposed to be quite the intense moment, but I don't think we'll embarrass ourselves."

Harry nodded, his hair brushing along Draco's cheek making the Veela's eyes flutter closed as a shiver worked through him. He leaned back a little more and smirked when he saw Draco's reaction. Good; he was glad he wasn't the only one feeling like a randy bastard.

"Why?" he asked, looking at Draco intently. He had expected this but not so soon. He knew once he accepted the Veela's bond, they'd probably have to cut the courting short and... consummate that much sooner. He felt himself flush at the idea and tried like hell to focus on Draco when he realized the blonde's lips were moving.

"—ready." Draco smirked and shook his head a little. He realized about half-way through Harry hadn't been listening. And he could only imagine what distracted the wizard. Before Harry could pretend he heard or ask him to repeat himself, he carefully folded his free hand around Harry's upper arm and pulled him close until their chests were just about pressed together. "Because I can't wait. Because we're ready."

Harry nodded. Yeah, he was ready. He couldn't believe it took less than a month to find himself willing to bond to Draco Malfoy for life and looking forward to it. He couldn't, with complete honesty, say he was in love with the blonde but he was _starting_ to be. He hated the days he didn't see Draco and the thought of spending his life without the Veela almost brought him physical pain.

He glanced over at Hermione and the witch beamed at him, twiddling her fingers in a cheery wave. That was further proof he was ready, if he really needed it; Hermione approved. Not that he lived his life by her approval, but she'd often been right when he did boneheaded things and tried to talk him out of them. Generally, he didn't listen and learned the hard way. He _still_ did that, of course. But it was just another tic in the right column that he was ready for this when Hermione offered no disagreements.

Teddy looked just as excited, if not a little confused about what—exactly—was going on. Teddy adored Draco and the one time he asked the little boy about 'Mr. Draco' coming around more, maybe staying over for a sleep-over, Teddy had whooped excitedly and hadn't left the Veela's side the rest of the day. He even tried to pull Draco into his room when he went down for a nap (much to Draco's amusement and absolute pleasure).

Harry tried not to fidget when Mrs. Malfoy pushed her way into the kitchen. The older witch only took another two steps into the room, stopping right beside Hermione, and came no further. He wasn't sure if she'd _been_ stopped or just naturally knew to keep her distance. He gave the witch an awkward little wave that was returned with a small, but warm, smile as she inclined her head.

He had gotten on surprisingly well with Narcissa Malfoy when he met her again, formally. She had been pleasant and warm when they 'met'. Well, warm in her own way, anyway. They were past calling each other 'Mr. Potter' and 'Mrs. Malfoy' officially, but he still stuttered when calling her Narcissa, much to her (and Draco's) amusement. It helped that she took to Teddy immediately and the little boy had been thrilled when he'd been allowed to refer to her as 'grandmum'.

"All set, darling," Narcissa said, smoothing her robes and giving Draco a little dip of her head as well.

It was stifling in the room, making it hard to breath, but she managed to project her voice loud enough she saw his pale head bob in acknowledgement. She didn't chastise him for his curt gesture or lack of attention; he was focused solely on Harry. Honestly, it was a testament to his manners and familial affection for her that he even heard her or acknowledged her at all. She wanted to coo or something and clasp her hands to her chest like a simpering ninny at the evidence of the strong bond. But she didn't; she was a Black and she'd conduct herself as one.

She blinked when Hermione handed her a delicate handkerchief, dabbing at her leaking eyes with an identical one. She took it with a nod of thanks and kept it in her hand. There was little doubt she'd need it later. She realized, belatedly, she hadn't greeted anyone and nearly pinched herself for the rudeness. "Hermione, Teddy. Lovely to see you both."

"Hi grandmum!" Teddy gushed, leaning over and hugging the older woman around the waist. He re-situated himself so he was between the two witches, grabbing a hand each, but his eyes hadn't left Mr. Draco and Harry-daddy since he came in the room. There was a shiny bracelet and a strong bubble of magic and it was so exciting!. He wondered if this meant there would be sleepovers now... Mr. Draco seemed to like the idea when Harry-daddy mentioned it, even if they both had pink faces.

"Did you come for Harry-daddy?" he asked his grand mum, tilting his head curiously. Usually when he saw Mr. Draco's mummy, they went to Mr. Draco's big house (which wasn't a lot, which was good 'cause it was kinda spooky there).

Narcissa nodded once, smoothing a hand over Teddy's mess of black hair. She smiled when it shifted to a matching pale blonde as Teddy looked up at her with wide, soft blue eyes. "I did. My son is going to ask him an important question. If he says yes, we'll be having a little party." She couldn't help smiling back when Teddy beamed up at her, pumping his fist and hissing 'yes' as his bum wiggled in excitement. Yes, she was hoping there'd be a celebration as well. Her Draco had been looking forward to this day for years and she hoped he wouldn't be disappointed.

Of course, one only had to look at Harry and know he wouldn't be.

The wizard practically had cartoon hearts in his eyes and he was giving her Draco the most warm look she'd ever seen the two men share before. It was... Well—it was wonderful to witness. A brief pang of grief for her missing husband had her using her handkerchief for a moment. Lucius would have been proud to witness this, even if their son was bonding himself to Harry Potter. (The man had been wise not to make rude comments when Draco told him of his mate's identity, but she knew Lucius had been wary and a bit discomfited by it at the beginning.) She had been concerned Draco had been too eager to offer Harry the bonding cuff, but she was pleased to see her reservations were for naught.

"Draco," she murmured. She smiled when he jumped, his eyes reluctantly leaving Harry and meeting hers. "Any time now." She smirked a little when he nodded, a light blush staining his cheeks. She smothered the urge to coo again; she hadn't seen her Draco blush since he was thirteen.

Draco nodded again and cleared his throat. His mind suddenly went blank and he could only stare up at Harry, mouth and eyes wide open. _Oh no_. There wasn't exactly a set dialog for this, most Veela just spoke from the heart... But he couldn't think of anything to say! Any soft words of affection and promises of forever. adoration and honor flew from his head. He felt a nudge against his side and realized Harry's hand had slid up his side and had settled on his hip.

Merlin. That was _not_ helping.

"Draco," Harry murmured. He tried really hard not to snicker but Draco looked absolutely ridiculous; standing there wide-eyed and his mouth open but no words coming out. "It's my job to look like a buffoon."

Draco cleared his throat. "Right," he said tightly. He managed to give Harry a look, silently chastising him for speaking of himself that way, and he ignored Harry's minute eye roll. He swallowed a few times and when he felt he could speak without sounding like an idiot, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Once he felt calmer, he slowly opened his eyes. Harry was staring back at him, looking expectant and still a bit stunned but happy. He still didn't know what to say exactly; he didn't know, given Harry's earlier confession, how the wizard would react to certain words or vows.

"Harry." He looked down, his gaze settling on the bonding cuff. Harry was holding the other side and he could feel the way their magics combined and pulsed through the thick metal. It was... intoxicating. He still couldn't speak and he idly wondered what Harry thought of that. He looked up and smiled, relieved to see Harry looking between the cuff and his face. "I can't think of a single thing to say," he finally murmured, chuckling softly when Harry gaped at him.

Harry made a soft sound and slid his hand over Draco's. "Say whatever you need to," he whispered. He didn't know if Draco was holding back heart-felt sentiments he didn't want to admit to or if he was truly at a loss for words. He'd rarely seen Draco stunned speechless and generally it made him feel warm (and a little smug he was able to cause such a reaction); but right now he was worried it would mess up however this sort of thing should go. There had to be vows uttered, or something, right? A rituals needed 'magic words'? He rubbed small circles over the back of Draco's hand, hoping to calm the Veela.

Draco stared at the way Harry's hand was moving. "Harry," he started again. "I ask for your heart, magic, body and soul to be mine. Joined for life, in a mate's bond," he managed. It was the most basic of the bonding rites, but it was all that he could come up with. He wanted to groan aloud, annoyed and frustrated. Harry's 'soothing' motions were driving his instincts haywire! He couldn't think... He gripped the cuff tighter, waiting for Harry's response.

"Uhm. Yes? I mean, I accept," Harry said, trying to keep the uncertainty from his voice. He was sure of his answer but he wasn't sure what the appropriate response was. He leaned close to Draco and whispered "Did I answer that right?" Even before Draco responded, he felt the cuff warm and grow heavier. He really hoped that was a good thing...

Draco nodded, his eyes fluttering closed as he tried not to grab Harry and kiss him stupid. Why did he have to get so close and breath all over him like that? Didn't he realize he was already a mess of hormones and his closeness was so not helping his control? The cuff practically hummed with their magic and Harry's acceptance, so he slowly eased it open enough to slip it on Harry's arm.

"Let it adjust and push it up wherever you want it," he murmured, staring at the cuff circling Harry's arm. It looked stunning and everything felt too tight and overly warm as he looked at it. He could hardly believe he was actually taking the first step of bonding with his mate. He impulsively grabbed Harry and squeezed him, choking out a laugh when the wizard squeaked and landed against his chest with a breathless _oomph_.

It didn't take Harry long to recover. He didn't take Draco for a hugger... but he melted into the embrace, sighing softly and wrapping his arms around the Veela's waist as he pressed his cheek against the blonde's chest. He really liked the way his cheek could rest on Draco's chest, like they fit. He needed to adjust his cuff, he could feel it tingling and warming in pulses, but he really didn't want to pull away from the embrace. "Draco," he murmured, patting the blonde's back gently. "I need to adjust my cuff."

"Right." Draco pulled away, reluctant to let Harry go. He had nearly crooned when Harry fit against him so perfectly. He cleared his throat softly but couldn't quite look away from Harry's bright smile. "Sorry."

Harry smiled and pulled his shirt sleeve up. "It's fine. I just didn't want to miss the chance." He looked at the cuff and then up his arm. He wasn't sure where he wanted to have it rest. The cuff was a little too wide to go around his wrist comfortably, but he really liked the idea of wearing it low enough it was easy to see. He wasn't blind to the fierce look of pride on Draco's face when he reluctantly pushed it upwards—apparently the Veela liked the fact he wanted to show it off. He settled it around his forearm and flexed his hand, making sure it wasn't too tight.

The cuff warmed again and a pleasant thrum went up his arm as it adjusted. He flexed his hand again and nodded, pleased it fit perfectly. He didn't know what sort of charms were on it, but he could move and bend his arm without any hindrance. He gently stroked the band, running his finger along a few of the ornate carvings. "Do these mean anything?"

"It's in Veela. Basically, it's the bonding vows and the charms needed to fit and size it."

Harry nodded, unsurprised to learn Veela had their own language. It looked French, almost. "Is this a... generic cuff?" He looked up at Draco, trying not to snicker at the scandalized expression on his face.

"No, Harry," Draco said archly. "I would not get you anything deemed 'generic'." He gently wrapped his hand under the cuff and pulled Harry close. He traced the pad of his thumb down the middle of Harry's arm until he hit the thrumming pulse-point in his wrist. "It was made in a bit of a rush, but I was very specific in how I wanted it," he murmured.

Harry nodded blankly, mostly focused on the feeling of Draco's warm hand on his arm and wrist. He should have known better but he was still guilty of asking stupid questions before his brain could kick in. He really did like the plain, but beautiful, cuff but it he hadn't expected something so understated from Draco. He almost expected something covered with precious stones and the like. It was only after he blurted out the question did he realize Draco had gone with something to Harry's tastes.

"So, what does this say? Exactly," he prodded when Draco's eyes flicked up to meet his. He was a little surprised to see the blonde hesitate and look a little nervous.

"My eternal love," Draco muttered, fidgeting slightly. He blinked when he was suddenly being kissed, his face gently cradled in warm hands. Oh. Well. That was an unexpected but completely acceptable reaction. Maybe he'll let his Hufflepuff side out more often if Harry responded like this...

Harry pulled away when the temptation to deepen the kiss was almost too hard to refuse and he gave Draco a smile. Before he could embarrass himself, though, Draco's mum cleared her throat and reminded them both they were not alone. Oh Merlin... He groaned softly and buried his face in Draco's chest. He'd been _this_ close to making out with Draco in front of his mum, Teddy and Hermione.

"Darling, if you're ready," Narcissa said, smothering a smile as she waited for both pink-cheeked men to nod and collect themselves. She patted her son's cheek when he walked over. "I'm so happy for you, darling," she whispered and kissed his other cheek. She turned and gave Harry a nod. "Thank you."

Harry was stunned speechless. He didn't know what to say but eventually ended up mumbling a 'You're welcome' after gaping like a goldfish for a few moments. He knew why he was being thanked, but he was surprised to hear it. And even more surprised to realize it wasn't needed; he never would have let Draco suffer...

He stumbled a little, barely catching Teddy as the little boy glomped onto him. "Careful there," he murmured, looking down and trying to smooth Teddy's wild hair down.

"Sorry!" Teddy bounced and let go of Harry-daddy only long enough to give Mr. Draco a similar embrace. "Does this mean you're gonna get married and stay with us?" he gushed, staring up at Mr. Draco with wide, sparkly eyes. He blinked and looked between Harry-daddy and Mr. Draco when they both got pink faces and made weird gaspy-choky noises. He patted Mr. Draco's belly, the furthest he could reach, and rubbed gently. "You 'K?"

Draco nodded, getting his bearings again. Merlin... He should be used to Teddy's enthusiasm and awkward questions by now. He looked at Harry and wasn't at all disheartened to see the wizard was smiling at Teddy, having recovered from his shock as well. He shuffled closer to Harry, still a bit encumbered by Teddy's arms, and leaned in close. "Well, Potter? Whattya say?"

As far as proposals went, it was probably the worst ever. But he was curious. And he wasn't asking officially. _That_ would be an embarrassingly large do, regardless of Harry's protests or embarrassment.

Harry pulled back just enough to look at Draco properly. All kidding and light tones aside, he saw very real anticipation in Draco's expression. Did he think anything else would happen? "Of course," he said and rolled his eyes. "Do you think I'm some sort of tart that wouldn't insist on a ring and a proper mate?" he asked cheekily.

"Of course not," Draco answered quickly. He grinned, thoroughly pleased by Harry's answer. No, he hadn't expected Harry to want anything less, but he wasn't going to assume he'd insist on marriage and the whole works. Mating bonds did vary, especially these days when 'old fashioned' methods and ways were over-looked more often. It wasn't exactly common, but mates have been known to even live separate lives. He didn't think he'd be able to handle an arrangement like that—even if Harry insisted... He'd adapt, surely, but it was less than ideal.

On impulse he paused just before they left the kitchen and waited until Harry turned to look at him, his mouth slightly parted to ask a question. He smirked and yanked the wizard closer by this shirt, folding his hand into the soft fabric of Harry's t-shirt. He kept the kisses chaste, but he peppered them all over Harry's face; his cheeks and lips got the main focus, though. He slowly uncurled his hand from Harry's shirt and smoothed the fabric out, lingering a little as he dragged his hand over the smooth muscles underneath.

They grinned dopily at each other and made their way out of the kitchen and into the small party Narcissa planned. As tempting as it was to hide in the kitchen, making out like teenagers, neither one of them wanted to give Narcissa (or Hermione) a reason to come looking for them. Both witches had a habit of ear pulling...

.|.

Draco smothered the urge to smirk and went willingly, easily, when a hand latched into his collar and pulled. He let himself be moved until he was met with a firm warmth pressing against along his front. He hummed at the contact and continued in his passive role, for now, when his shirt was yanked on again, urging him downwards.

He smiled as he looked into steadily darkening green eyes. His amusement fled when Harry's tongue swept across his bottom hip. He was drawn to the sight, his eyes moving to watch the progress. Harry, the utter tease, was taking his time with the task; his tongue easing over the plump lip in a slow, thorough, roll and making them glisten. _Merlin_.

He did not wait for an invitation, he didn't bother pretending to let Harry think he was controlling the situation. He dipped his head down and pressed his hips forward until he was pressed tightly against Harry and they were kissing. As expected, there were no protests; Harry made his own humming sound as he tilted his head and just let Draco do whatever he wanted.

He really couldn't help the growl that rumbled out if him; Harry's submission was so easy and delicious he couldn't _not_ celebrate it. He slid his fingers through Harry's hair, thrilling in the silky texture, and gently used the grip to shift his head, deepening the kiss. Harry moved and shifted without hesitation or complaint and practically melted in his arms, molding against his body. He hummed in pleasure and slid his hands down Harry's front, sliding his hands around narrow hips until he was cupping firm cheeks.

Harry pulled back from the kiss with a gasp even as he arched into Draco's hands. He offered no complaint or resistance when Draco untucked his shirt and long, agile fingers pressed against his lower back and pushed. He fit shifted when he felt Draco's thigh easing between his own.

Draco grunted softly when Harry rolled his hips and he was immediately aware of the wizards' answering arousal. "Harry," he breathed and gently but firmly gripped Harry's head in his hands and licked into his mouth again. He moaned softly when Harry writhed against him, still pliant and submissive but clearly aroused and willing. Hands dipped into the front of his pants and his breath left his lungs in a softly moaned _woosh_.

He briefly considered removing Harry's hands—Until the wizard's hands wormed lower and wrapped around him, the grip a little too loose to be embarrassingly arousing. "Harry," he grunted.

Harry chuckled softly and leaned in again, nipping at Draco's neck and jaw. He pulled a hand out of Draco's pants and slid up the blonde's chest until he had it hooked around the back of his neck. He pulled, bringing Draco close enough to kiss him again. He wriggled against Draco's front, voicing a surprised little moan when Draco had his pants opened and spread wide in seconds and bare skin touched. The warm metal of Harry's bonding cuff almost felt hot as it grazed his hip and he moaned softly at the feel.

Draco awoke with a start. His eyes flew open and he looked around, confused and a little lost; he didn't recognize the room he was in. He slowly looked down and nearly groaned aloud when he realized where he was. He, somehow—at some point—managed to make his way into Harry's room. And into Harry's bed. He'd curse the way the newly accepted bond had drawn them together if it wasn't so damn awkward it had been in the middle of the night. He slowly exhaled, squashing the urge to panic. He had no idea how Harry would react... He certainly didn't think the wizard would appreciate the way he had been rutting against his unconscious body.

He slowly eased backwards, hoping Harry was a deep enough sleeper he wouldn't disturb him. He was near the edge of the bed when Harry stirred. He froze, and hoped Harry would still and go back to sleep. He grit his teeth when Harry shifted, moving closer instead. The wizard rolled enough to trap Draco's arm under his sleepy-warm chest and sprawled out over Draco's front.

Damn.

He took a few moments to revel in the warm weight of his mate atop him. He was only human. Er... Veela. Whatever. He didn't think it was too wrong to take a moment to enjoy it, even if he shouldn't be there in the first place. He realized he had dipped his head and his nose was buried in the mess of Harry's hair, inhaling deeply. Oh Merlin and he even had his lips pressed against the silky strands... Unfortunately, he realized it too late and he heard a sharp intake a breath and Harry moved.

"Draco?"

Draco hissed a curse under his breath and cleared his throat. "Yes, Harry?"

"Why are you—?" Harry slowly lifted his head, blinking sleepily at the blonde laying under him. He'd had the most amazing dream (starring the gorgeous Veela currently stretched in his bed) but he'd been sure he'd been dreaming—until he felt lips at the top of his head. He hadn't dreamt that part... Though, it felt really, really nice. It had made him feel warm, content and gooey actually.

Draco slowly exhaled and stopped the absent movement of his hand, belatedly realizing he'd been caressing Harry's arm and shoulder. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "I was having a very pleasant dream and when I woke up, I was here."

He'd fallen asleep in the comfortable bed in Harry's guest room, immediately accepting Harry's offer of a 'sleep-over'. He had wished Harry offered to sleep together (emphasis on the sleep), but he didn't want to bring it up first. He was thrilled just to be staying close to Harry that night, he didn't want to ruin anything by pushing.

And now, here he was—in Harry's bed, snuggling and writhing against the wizard in his sleep. Honestly, he wouldn't blame Harry if he planted a foot on his arse and pushed... It was an invasion, even if it was pleasant on his end. He closed his eyes and hoped Harry wouldn't push him away. The close contact felt incredible, warming him completely, and he was almost to the point of making happy little crooning sounds. Which would be a bit embarrassing all on its own, but even more so when he wound up on his arse on Harry's carpet.

"Oh." Harry shrugged and settled back down against Draco with a yawn. They were only snuggling (and wasn't that nice to discover—Draco was a snuggler!) and it felt really nice. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been snuggled. "Is this OK?" he asked after a few quiet moments, his voice a bit muffled by Draco's chest. He rubbed his cheek against the soft material of Draco's sleep-shirt and wished the blonde had a habit of sleeping in less.

Draco had to clear his throat again. Harry was wiggling around, pressing close with his amazing sleepy-warm smell... "Yes," he managed. "Just—" He shifted a bit, moving Harry's hand from around his waist. "Just keep your hands up here, alright?" He didn't want Harry's hands higher, but he really did not want to push either of their boundaries.

"Mmkay," Harry mumbled, already falling back asleep. He nuzzled his cheek against Draco's chest and sighed softly. "You can totally sleep here tomorrow night," he said with a happy sigh.

Draco merely nodded, humming his agreement since he was unable to find the any words. Which seemed fine since Harry was already back asleep, snoring softly and puffing warm breath over his upper arm. He was stunned at Harry's easy acceptance. Once he was sure Harry was deeply asleep, he shifted to a more comfortable position, careful not to jostle his wizard too much, and slowly turned his head until his face was pressed into Harry's neck.

He smiled when Harry made a contented sigh in his sleep and finally let his eyes drift closed.


	7. Chapter 7

Draco wasn't one to laze about in bed normally. But he was making an exception today. Partially because he wasn't in his own bed, and he didn't have anything planned for a few hours. But it was mainly because of the wizard still deeply asleep and cuddled into his side, trapping his entire right side. He wasn't surprised to realize Harry was a cuddler; not when he woke up in the middle of the night and immediately clamped arms and legs around Draco and snuggled in like it was completely normal to treat another grown person like a teddy bear.

Of course, he wasn't as confident Harry would be so calm once fully awake and confronted with Draco's presence in the bright light of morning. So, for now, he was going to lay there and just enjoy the warm press of Harry's body along his and the comfortable silence. He was awake even before Teddy, apparently, which was quite the feat most mornings.

He stopped breathing when Harry shifted, yawning and scrubbing absently at his hair with his free hand. He risked a look down and met sleepy, but content and decidedly un-freaked out, green eyes. "Morning," he whispered.

"Morning," Harry said through a sigh. He stretched a little but returned to his cuddle position, shifting his leg a bit higher up on Draco's as he snuggled himself back against Draco. Merlin, he was so warm and comfortable! "So, I didn't imagine you sneaking into my room and sleep-cuddling me?"

Draco snorted softly. He wasn't going to correct the 'sleep-cuddling' to a more accurate 'sleep-fondling'. "No, you were not. I am sorry about that," he said softly, running a hesitant hand through Harry's hair. He slowly released a pent up breath when Harry sighed almost inaudibly, which he felt rather than heard, and arched ever-so-slightly into his hand like a kneazle. He smiled to himself and let himself enjoy the moment.

"S'okay," Harry murmured. "It's really not a big deal," he said, noticing that Draco was still a bit tense. "Right? I mean, we're past the courting and into the bonding stuff..." he trailed off, sounding a little uncertain. He didn't move, of course, but that was mainly because he was comfortable. Even if they were in a sort of a... compromising position.

Draco chuckled softly, moving his hand up and watching Harry's hair flop down for only a moment before it sprung back up in wild disarray. 'Bonding stuff' covered a lot of area, but he knew what Harry meant. He knew the wizard had numerous books on the subject, as well. But apparently not the right books so he made a mental note to pass a few books along to Harry (and Hermione) about the 'bonding stuff'—a lot of it was important for him to know and he refused to assume Harry knew and have there be an issue later.

"Yes, but even the bonding has steps and a few guidelines." Draco absently fingered the cuff around Harry's forearm, humming in contentment at the warm, comforting weight of it. The slightly textured surface was warm with Harry's body heat and magic. It was probably the second best thing he's ever felt in his life. He cleared his throat, only slightly surprised at the lump of emotion there; something that happened frequently when he thought of his mate.

"Were you listening when my mother explained a few things?"

He was pretty sure Harry had zoned out, pretty quickly after his mother had started speaking. He knew it wasn't a lack of manners; Harry had been preoccupied with staring at his newly acquired bonding cuff and the distracting buzz of the forming bond. He certainly had been. And it didn't help his mother had chosen the most mundane aspects to cover first. So, really, the fault was really with his mother; she did know better.

Draco chuckled softly and squeezed Harry gently when the wizard remained quiet and only made a small, nervous sound. He absently stroked a comforting hand down Harry's back, hoping to calm and sooth the wizard's anxiety and momentary embarrassment. He smiled a little when he felt Harry relax against him once again.

"It's alright, I was barely able to pay attention myself. I was focused on watching you staring at your bonding cuff," he admitted easily, humming when he felt the cheek pressed against his chest warm. "Mother simply went over some of the basic bonding rites and..." he trailed off, worrying his bottom lip. He didn't know how Harry would feel about having to buy, infuse his magic into and offer his own bonding cuff.

It was final. _Permanent_. If there was ever a time for Harry to change his mind, before they consummated, it would be then. Part of him knew Harry wouldn't do that, but other parts... were terrified. Of rejection. Terrified this was all too good to be true and everything would overwhelm their mate and he'd leave.

Harry slowly propped himself up on an elbow, looking down at Draco curiously when the blonde remained quiet without finishing. "What?" He really had no real recollection of what Draco's mum had spoken about. His head had felt fuzzy, in a pleasant way like he'd had just the right amount of champagne, and it had been difficult to hear anything past Draco's voice. What did he miss that would have Draco looking nervous and a little scared? He slowly brought a hand up, cupping Draco's cheek. "What?" he asked again.

Draco's fingers absently stroked down Harry's back as he collected his thoughts. He knew he was nuzzling against Harry's palm, but Harry didn't say anything sappy about that—he just smiled and enjoyed the contact. "Well, the first thing you need to do is... present me with a similar item," he said, brushing his fingers along Harry's cuff and meeting green eyes for a moment. "It symbolizes your consent and intent. That you accept the bond... and me."

"Oh!" Harry's eyes widened a little and he shifted, resting his chin on Draco's chest. Thank Merlin. He was expecting something horrible or... borderline Dark magic. He smiled, excited for the chance to do something for Draco in return; everything had been so one-sided so far. "OK," he nodded. "Where do I get one?"

Draco chuckled, unable to help himself. He felt relief flash through him in a dizzying wave and he felt like smothering Harry with kisses. He cleared his throat. "Mother will take you."

"Oh," Harry said again, trying not to show the disappointment he felt; he had hoped Draco would go with him. He was sure he'd have to be the one to actually pick it and such, but still. Or the panic.

He hadn't spent any time with Draco's mum on his own... He almost felt nauseous with the thought. He'd embarrass himself or Draco within the first 5 minutes, he just _knew_ it. Narcissa wasn't exactly hard to please, but she did have high standards and very set ideas on what proper manners were. Plus, he didn't know how much input she'd (subtly, of course) insist upon for the bonding cuff. He slowly relaxed, feeling Draco's fingertips flutter across his shoulders.

"OK," he said with a short nod. He could do that. He will go with Narcissa Malfoy. Shopping. He would do that; for Draco. He felt like pointing out that the git should be proud of his bravery, but he was fairly certain Draco wouldn't see shopping with his mum as an act of bravery.

"It's really not all that horrible, Harry," Draco said, smiling a little. "Mother adores you." He raised an eyebrow when Harry huffed incredulously. "She does," he insisted, lightly smacking the back of Harry's head. "She's not one to coo and hug, but she's very fond of you. And no," he said, anticipating Harry's next words when he saw him take a breath and open his mouth to speak, "It's not just because you're my mate. It is a large part, I won't lie, but she genuinely likes you."

Harry hummed softly and shifted to lay back down again, his cheek pressed against Draco's chest. "Fine," he finally said, agreeing. It wasn't like he had much choice. He chewed the inside of his cheek nervously before finally blurting out "Will she help me pick something out?" He felt like a complete git for asking; mostly because he wanted her help as much as he didn't want it. Merlin, Narcissa was going to hex him and abandon him in the shops of France or something.

"No," Draco murmured. "She will not. She's going along as my mother, a familial representative. And as translator."

Harry sighed, partly in exasperation but also in relief he wouldn't be floundering and looking like a bigger idiot when he wouldn't know what to say or what was being said. "What else did she say?" he asked, flopping down and laying against Draco.

"Well," Draco paused, gently pushing Harry into a better, less tempting, position. "We should discuss living arrangements."

Harry merely hummed, agreeing but leaving the issue for later. He had enough on his mind at the moment, what with choosing a cuff befitting his Veela and shopping for said item with Draco's mum.

.|.

Harry was nervous but Narcissa just gave him a small, but warm, smile, patting his hand gently. "Sorry," he muttered. He averted his eyes, focusing on the tray of artfully arranged finger sandwiches. Brunch at the Manor with his soon-to-be Mother-in-law had been nice, actually fun, until the witch mentioned the bonding cuff for Draco. He hadn't the first clue...

"Don't be," Narcissa said softly. She crossed her legs at the ankle and smoothed her robes over her lap. "Now, what did you have in mind?"

Harry shrugged one shoulder before he could stop the habitual movement. Narcissa, thankfully, didn't scold him or make that subtle frowny face she did when Draco did unacceptable things. "I really don't know where to even start."

"Well," Narcissa said, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin before folding her hands primly in front of her. "There are many metals to choose from for starters. Most aren't significant, ceremony or magic wise, but it is important to make sure you get something... complimentary."

Harry nodded. "Draco prefers platinum. It looks good on him too," he added, feeling himself warm at the thought of Draco. The color of platinum, or silver, was one the Veela wore often. It really brought out his pale hair and silvery eyes. He cleared his throat when he noticed Narcissa smiling knowingly at him, one pale eyebrow raised. She nodded her agreement, pleased to know Harry had given this some thought. "Does it have to be... jeweled?"

"No," Narcissa said slowly, considering her answer. "It's not required, but some stones do have meaning. Magical properties that would speak of a deep, loving bond. Or a wish for one," she added with a small smile. Harry merely nodded enthusiastically and her smile widened a little. She hadn't been sure her son would get that sort of bond (or a truly worthy mate) until she watched the couple as that Bonding cuff slid on Harry's arm.

She cleared her throat, patting at her chest a little to ease the warm, clutching feeling there. "Well, in that case, we'll want something like emerald, or moonstone. Ruby or rhodonite would also be lovely, if the color doesn't put you, or Draco, off. Sapphire would work, as well. Diamonds, of course."

"Of course," Harry murmured, unashamedly making notes on a scrap of paper he'd had in his pocket. Narcissa didn't comment, only adding things whenever he stopped scribbling away. "Is there..." he trailed off, staring at the list. Cost wasn't an issue but he had a feeling getting a cuff that was too ornate would take forever to make. He really didn't want to wait that long...

Narcissa leaned over the table and patted Harry's hand again, curious and a little concerned when he didn't continue. "What, darling?"

"Is there any way to get something like this made quickly?" Harry asked, fighting a blush. Both at the eagerness he was clearly showing and at Narcissa's almost-motherly affection. He hadn't been called 'darling' before (at least not ironically or in a biting, condescending tone). He relaxed a little when Narcissa chuckled softly, her eyes crinkling a little with humor and warmth.

"Of course, Harry." Narcissa slowly pulled Harry's scrap of paper across the table. There was a sketch of a bonding cuff on the bottom of the page. It was beautiful, even if it was only roughly sketched and haphazardly doodled. She wondered if Harry even realized he'd drawn it... "Magic helps, but it will take some time to make, even so. The exquisite craftsmanship doesn't mean immediately, however. All bonding cuffs are custom, of a sort."

Harry nodded again, feeling anxious but excited too. He couldn't wait. "Alright."

"Are you ready to go?" Narcissa asked, pushing away from the table. Harry was practically vibrating with excited, nervous energy and she hadn't the heart to make him wait any longer. She stood and Harry was politely taking her arm a moment later, waiting for the side-along apparation.

Harry stared as they entered the shop. The walls were lined with all sorts of jewelry and the few display cases sporadically set about the small area were practically glittering with every possible kind of gemstone. He kept to Narcissa's side as they made their way to the back of the shop. It wasn't until Narcissa had murmured something in French that he saw the Goblin behind the tall display case.

"Ah, Missus Malfoy."

Narcissa smiled and inclined her head, offering a greeting in return. Harry couldn't keep up with the rapid, but softly spoken French, so he didn't bother. He merely watched the Goblin pull his sketch closer, inspecting it intently, and tried not to fidget. Especially when dark, beady little eyes flicked up to him and the Goblin sneered.

Of course, that was probably Goblin for a welcoming smile.

" _Oui. Vous pouvez l'avoir fait plus tôt?_ *" Narcissa asked, knowing she wasn't asking for the impossible. Goblin's were renowned for their craftsmanship and she knew they could work quickly with the right incentive.

The Goblin's attention went back to the witch and he glowered. " _Bien sûr. Il sera impeccable, il peut être fait rapidement. Vous revenez ici dans trois semaines pour récupérer._ "**

" _Merci_ ," Narcissa said, relieved. A few weeks was more then she had expected, quite honestly. She took out her purse and eyed Bloodthorn (where _do_ they come up with such names?), waiting patiently for a price to be quoted. She didn't want to ask outright and insult him, though. After a few more moments with the sketch, and making sure the details were done, the Goblin glanced up at her with a shrewd expression and quoted a price. Without a word, she handed her coin purse over.

"How much?" Harry whispered, watching the Goblin take the entire sack and secret it away somewhere. It was a full bag and neither one of them had counted anything out! Without a goodbye, the Goblin disappeared into the back of the shop and he realized they were done.

Narcissa patted Harry's hand and just smiled. "Not important, darling."

"No," Harry agreed, nodding. It wasn't important at all. He'd pay any amount, really. He was merely curious. He checked the time and felt a flush of excitement go through him. They were meeting Draco and Teddy for lunch. Not that he had much of an appetite; between his still settling nerves and the little bit he had at brunch, he probably wouldn't eat much.

But he couldn't wait to see Draco. And Teddy.

Narcissa lead them down the street, passing a few shops and cafés until they reached where they were to meet her son and young Teddy. They were both already there; Draco sitting causally, but still somehow looking respectable and Teddy looking around the café with wide eyes. She wasn't sure if she should feel amused or annoyed when her son's attention was immediately, and fully, on the wizard at her side the moment he saw them.

At least Teddy greeted her first and she gave the little boy a kiss on the cheek that was happily returned with a quiet giggle.

She was going to go with 'amused and slightly smitten' when she felt Harry straining at her arm, trying to close the distance faster as they rounded the table. At least he was able to curb his urges enough not to drag her about...

"Harry," Draco greeted, standing as they neared, a small smile lifting his lips. He blinked when there was a soft, distinctly feminine, sound of a throat being cleared. "Mother," he said, leaning over and kissing her cheek. He should probably feel bad he hadn't even noticed his mother, but he knew she'd understand. His gaze slid back to Harry and he found himself relaxing a little to see him again, even if he was anxious to know how everything went.

Harry and Draco sat after Narcissa gathered her robes gracefully and took her seat. She patted both of their hands once they settled and picked up a menu.

"Draco," Harry finally said softly, smiling warmly. "Teddy," he added when the little boy looked up from his menu and waved with a cheeky grin. Was he allowed to tell Draco about the cuff he'd designed? Probably. But he realized he'd rather keep it a surprise. He picked up his own menu and made an effort to read it. It was in French, though, and he didn't know any translating charms. He quickly looked up when the words shifted in English and Draco sent him a sly wink.

Harry spent a good portion of the lunch (and, later, the afternoon spent window shopping with Teddy and the Malfoys) watching Draco. It was interesting.

His perception of the Veela had changed a little; but he realized Draco hadn't changed, he just saw more. Draco still sat at the café like he owned the place. He still held his head up in a manner that could be considered cocky or arrogant (though, he found it a little adorable anymore) when he wasn't looking at him, his mother or Teddy. He strolled along the pavement with purpose, even the times he was holding Teddy's hand and allowing the little boy to direct which shops they went to.

It was odd to realize he actually liked seeing a bit of the old Malfoy that he remembered. He blinked when he realized both Malfoys were looking at him with expectant, but still patient, expressions. Oops.

"Huh?"

Draco chuckled softly and had to take a moment, the urge to touch Harry was strong for a moment. It didn't go away, especially not when Harry cocked his head a little and blinked up at him with those green eyes. He didn't care if Malfoys didn't fondle their partners in public; Veela do. He reached over and wrapped a hand around Harry's forearm, right below his cuff. His thumb moved in a lazy circle and he relaxed a little.

"Mother asked after Hermione."

Harry startled, now distracted by Draco's hand on him instead of mooning at him like a smitten fifth year. "Oh! She's fine. Doing great, really. She and Teddy have been keeping busy. Mostly cleaning," he admitted. He grinned when Teddy nodded and gave Draco a happy smile.

"Cleaning?" Draco asked, blinking a few times in confusion. Both at the statement and the odd expression Harry was giving him. Did he realize he was being a coy little flirt when he did that thing with his lashes? Probably not, the adorably daft git. Of course, realizing it's was all very unintentional did not lessen his reaction to it.

Harry nodded and took a sip of his water, suddenly feeling very thirsty. Merlin, why did Draco have look at him like that? It felt like he was going to be eaten. In a good way. "Yes, cleaning. Since he heard about... everything, he's looking forward to more sleep-overs."

"Oh!" Draco said and laughed outright. He really wasn't surprised; Teddy managed to do the most embarrassingly sweet things. Especially for him. He realized his mother was giving them a patient look, waiting for an explanation. "I slept at Harry's, in the guest room, and I suppose young Teddy is hoping for a repeat."

"Yeah," Teddy added, bouncing in his seat a little. He blushed and ducked his head shyly when everyone looked at him.

Narcissa smiled, touched. "Oh, I see." She didn't comment on the sleep-over issue. They were both adults, intent on Bonding, so she really didn't have much to say. Although... "Did you plan on making living arrangements more permanent?"

"Yes," Draco said immediately. He looked at Harry and offered a small, slightly apologetic smile. They hadn't discussed it yet, not in any real detail, but it was his wish. Harry nodded his agreement and he nearly sagged with relief. "We'll discuss the details in private, though."

Narcissa nodded.

Harry fidgeted. He was glad they wouldn't have to talk about it with Draco's mum, but he didn't know exactly what Draco wanted. He did like the idea but he was comfortable and settled in his little house. He looked at Draco, the Veela discussing something with his mother and unaware of his focus. He didn't think the blonde would want to squeeze into his house, though. Teddy wasn't in school yet, so it wasn't like they couldn't find another place... And he looked positively ecstatic as he ate the rest of his lunch, his feet swinging a little.

"Mother," Draco murmured in gentle warning, shaking his head slightly. He was not discussing that now. With her. Thankfully, Harry had zoned out again and didn't appear to have heard what his mother said. It was generous of her to offer one of the many Malfoy estates as a Bonding gift, but he didn't know what Harry would think about it. Hopefully, he wouldn't refuse such a gift and would accept it gracefully. But he was also quite sure Harry wouldn't want to move any time soon.

And he liked Harry's little Muggle house. It was cozy and had enough magic in it to feel warm and welcoming.

Narcissa changed tactics. "Harry, dear, you'd like Italy, yes?"

"Uh," Harry said, trying not to gape. "I don't speak Italian."

Narcissa smiled and waved a hand. "You can learn."

"Uh." Harry felt like a broken record, but he was confused. He glanced at Draco and saw the blonde glaring, politely, at his mother. "I hadn't really counted on moving that far out."

Narcissa patted Harry's hand and made a soft sound. "That's quite alright, darling. We've places all over, I'm sure we'll find something suitable."

"Mother."

"And most are already fully staffed with house-elves and-"

" _Mother_."

Narcissa huffed softly and finally looked at Draco. "Yes, Draco?"

"Please, I wished to speak to Harry about this in private. Later."

Narcissa inclined her head. "As you wish, darling."

Draco's eyes narrowed, not at all buying his mother's easy surrender. And a moment later, he was so close to groaning and resting his face in his palm when a stack of photographs (Muggle and Wizarding) came out of nowhere and she pushed them into Harry's hands. He clenched his teeth and let his mother point at each picture, telling Harry where each house (well, _Manor_ —Malfoys didn't own mere houses) were and describing the various estates they held. Harry looked positively panicked and he felt the urge to rescue him.

"Mother," he said, leaning across the table and taking the pictures from Harry's unresisting hands. "We'll look through these. Later." He was growing exasperated with his mother's insistent behavior. She gave him a sour look and he repressed the urge to scowl. Or shrink back under the look like a cowed little boy. Damn her; able to affect him, a grown arsed man, the same she could when he was seven and tracking mud through the marble foyer.

Draco tucked the photos into his inner pocket. "We will," he insisted. It wasn't like he was avoiding the issue all together, he just didn't want to do it in public. Harry was bound to pace, wave his hands about and think rude things out loud as thy discussed it. He'd rather keep that away from prying eyes and reporters, thankyouverymuch.

"Yeah," Harry said, giving Narcissa grateful smile. "I get a little worked up when I'm not thinking, so... But we'll be talking about it," he said reassuringly.

Narcissa nodded once and dropped the issue, content and focused on sipping at her Jasmine tea and talking with Teddy about his newest passion for a Muggle toy he could build anything with.

.|.

Harry toed his shoes off and kicked them towards the hallway. He couldn't help laughing when Draco eased out of his own shoes and carefully levitated them down the hallway, where the soft sounds of the closet opening and closing could just barely be heard a few moments later.

"You're moving in with me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. It's wasn't so much a request as... confirmation the Veela hadn't fried a few brain cells.

Draco stretched and pulled Harry onto the sofa, pleased when Harry sat close. "I think I can manage it. I am aware of your... habits," he said after a pause. Harry wasn't messy, per se, but he had a 'I'll get to it later' sort of opinion on many things. Like his shoes.

"Yeah?" Harry asked, grinning and leaning forward. He shifted closer so their legs were touching, almost overlapping. "All of them?"

Draco pursed his lips slightly in thought. "No," he admitted. There were plenty of things he didn't know about Harry yet. But, he had used the man's bathroom before; he knew the wizard wasn't completely hopeless. "Is there more?"

"Yup."

"Worse?"

Harry paused, his mouth bunching up on one side as he considered the answer. "That's entirely subjective," he decided. He knew Draco was particular, though, so it was really anyone's guess of what the Veela would find annoying. Of course, there wasn't much he could do about it; he'd have to lern how to deal with socks missing the hamper since they're to be Bonded and all.

"Right. Of course," Draco agreed, moving closer. It was odd; one moment he was looking down at Harry's smiling face and the next his hands were in Harry's hair and he was kissing the wizard's breath away. He made a pleased sound when Harry immediately kissed back, opening up to his advances without hesitation. He pressed closer and Harry went willingly, shifting into him with an easy grace. He felt one of Harry's hand rest lightly on his neck and the other fisted in the front of his shirt.

Harry sighed softly, moving without hesitation when Draco pressed forward. Kissing Draco was an experience. It had started soft and sweet, making him want to make embarrassing cooing noises and melt into a puddle when Draco's thumb gently stroked along his cheek. Now the Veela's hands were on either side of his jaw, shifting and angling his head and deepening the kiss.

Fantastic, really.

Draco pulled back and looked at Harry. While he liked the way Harry easily submitted, he didn't want him to just meekly go along, either. He really doubted his dynamic little mate would be boring but he realized they hadn't exactly talked about this aspect of their relationship. "Alright?" he murmured softly, his thumbs gently sweeping along Harry's jaw.

"Yeah," Harry sighed happily, leaning against Draco. "Why?" He thought things were going well... Did Draco not like his kissing? His brows furrowed a little when Draco merely looked at him for long moments. He wanted to fidget under the intense scrutiny.

"If you aren't ready—"

"I am," Harry muttered, interrupting the Veela. He resisted the urge to worry his bottom lip with his teeth and made himself meet Draco's eye. "Was it— Am I— Was it not good enough?" He didn't know what he could do if that were the case. He certainly wasn't going to practice on someone else...

Draco stared, gobsmacked. What in Merlin's name was Harry talking about? He noticed Harry's nervous posture and nearly face-palmed. "No, love, you're perfect. I was just... concerned you weren't as into this as I had hoped." He blinked with surprise when Harry gave a soft but throaty laugh and pressed closer. He groaned softly at the warm firmness being pressed against him. OK—that answered that question. He merely watched as Harry slowly slid his hands up his sides and around his font o caress his chest. He stared, mesmerized, at Harry's eyes; they were intense—heated, almost hungry.

He almost pinched himself, making sure he was _actually_ sitting in Harry's cozy sitting room being felt up. It was real, of course—his imagination wasn't this good. Or realistic. He leaned into the feel of Harry's warm, lightly calloused, fingertips dragging across the fabric of his shirt. He enjoyed the way Harry's eyes followed the path of his own hands, his tongue poking out of his mouth and just barely visible as it rested against his top lip. He waited, following Harry's movements only with his eyes when the wizard leaned up and nuzzled his neck.

"I'm very into this. Into _you_ ," Harry murmured, pressing closer and letting Draco feel how true that was. They'd only been kissing and he was already half hard. "I just... like to go with the flow," he whispered. He would elaborate if needed, but he was sure Draco got his meaning. He didn't just go completely limp but he really liked when his partner lead. He really hoped it wouldn't bother Draco—

Draco growled softly and wrapped his hands around Harry's hips. "Good." He tightened his grip, reveling in the sound Harry made as he drew him closer. How lucky was he to get a sexy—willingly submissive— Harry Potter for his very own? His blood felt heated and that heat pooled low, making him want to growl, croon and fucking fly all at the same time. He cleared his throat, needing to ask one more thing before they could stop talking and get back to more important, fun, things. "Always?"

Harry shrugged a little, feeling heat in his cheeks. He really hoped Draco didn't notice because he was far from embarrassed... "Probably," he admitted. He smiled, slowly, when Draco made a low noise and his entire body seemed to vibrate. "You like that idea, hmm?" he asked softly, even though the answer was obvious.

"Yes, Harry, I do," Draco murmured, bringing Harry closer and sticking his nose into that sensitive dip right behind Harry's ear. He inhaled deeply, noting the way his wizard shuddered lightly and made a soft sound of enjoyment. "Merlin, do I. I'm so close to losing it..." he trailed off hoarsely. Fuck; he needed to calm down...

"Lose it?" Harry repeated, sounding worried. He smoothed his hands across Draco's chest, trying to calm him and not aware he was making the problem worse. He stepped closer, unsure why Draco was trembling slightly. He could feel Draco's heart beating like mad under his palm and he unconsciously pressed closer, his hands splaying over the firm muscles of Draco's chest. He knew he was half-fondling and half-trying to sooth, but he figured he was allowed certain liberties at this point.

Draco didn't exactly seem to mind. Until a pale, strong hand wrapped around Harry's wrist and forced his hand still. Harry looked up, concerned.

"Y-yes," Draco choked out, taking a deep breath in an effort to calm down. But it only filled his head with Harry's warm scent and he nearly whimpered. "Lose control. That indeed pleases me— _a lot_ —and if I don't calm down, I'll display," he admitted, leaning down and tucking his face in Harry's neck to avoid seeing his reaction. Plus, Harry smelled really really good. He groaned lowly when he felt Harry press closer. He could feel the biting twinge in his fingertips from his claws trying to come out and he fisted his hands.

He nearly growled in warning when he realized Harry was doing it deliberately, stroking him and shifting impossibly closer—the wizard was trying to get him to react. To display. Did Harry _want_ to actually see that?

"Yes," Harry whispered, cupping Draco's face and kissing him softly. He deepened the kiss almost immediately, hoping to incite the Veela into changing. He needed to see Draco... He'd been wanting to since Draco told him it could happen. He was sure Draco was stunning... "Please," he whispered against Draco's lips. It might have been a teensy bit unfair... but he wasn't going to back down.

Draco slowly nodded and stopped trying to suppress the urge to display—it went against everything in him to refuse his mate. He sighed softly as his body relaxed and the slightly cramped feeling eased like a wave across his body. He gave Harry a searching look and couldn't help smirking at the look of naked want and curiosity on his face. He didn't need to be manipulated; not since Harry made it clear he wanted to see. He couldn't deny his mate anything, after all.

"Kiss me" he demanded. Harry, like the wonderful mate he was, immediately complied. It was just as thrilling to have Harry taking control, but he did like it the other way a little bit more. Not that it mattered at all when it came to his instincts. Harry made a soft sound in the back of his throat and he pressed forward for a moment.

All over his body, things tingled, tightened and heated. He pulled away from Harry with a slick sound and took a deep breath through his nose. "You might want to step back," he murmured, gently pushing Harry across the sofa cushions until he was at arms length. He wouldn't lash out but he did need a bit of room—his bloody wings were just this side of ridiculously sized. Of course, he was proud of them; bigger was always better.

"Why?" Harry didn't think Draco would hurt him... He didn't understand—

His thoughts ground to a halt when Draco slowly stood and wings appeared behind the Veela with a soft ruffling sound. _Oh_. His eyes widened as he took in the sight before him: Wings. Feathers. Claws. Merlin, Draco was _stunning_. He didn't notice Draco's stiff shoulders, the Veela waiting tensely for his reaction—he was too busy looking at everything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I looked into precious stones and their meanings. Interesting stuff, I gotta say._   
>  _Emeralds: enhances love within a marriage. Moonstone: brings love and tenderness to lovers, enhances passion in romance, and encourages faithful and supportive love. Rhodonite: nurtures love, promotes maturity in love, and helps one to distinguish between real love and fantasy. Ruby: promotes unconditional love, romance, marriage, devotion, and passion, and helps in all matters of love. (Blue) Sapphire: promotes romantic love and teaches a couple how to increase belief and faith in each other._
> 
> _Translations from Google Translator (so my sincerest apologies if it's not quite right)._   
>  _*"You will have it done quickly?"_   
>  _**"Of course. It will be flawless; it can be done quickly. You come back here in three weeks to recover."_


	8. Chapter 8

Was it a trick of the light or an _actual_ magical aura making Draco glow a little?

Harry had no idea but it didn't diminish the effect. At all. He decided it didn't matter and just... stared.

He didn't know what was more fascinating; the way Draco stood there, looking imposing but welcoming and a little self-conscious all at the same time. The large wings, which were a beautiful white with light golden feathers at the top and pale grey at the tips. Maybe it was just the radiating warmth of Veela magic that seemed to wrap around him and make him want to do... things.

Whatever it was, Harry had to consciously take a deep breath when he realized the spots blooming in front of his vision were from a lack of oxygen because he actually forgot to breathe.

He didn't think Draco would actually have wings; he thought wings were things of fantasy in cheesy romance novels that catered to witches and their Veela-based fantasies. Or just overly dramatized myth. But there they were—nearly brushing the ceiling and too real to be questioned. He wanted to touch but he didn't know if that would be allowed. Or maybe it would be harmful; a brief flash of memory about not touching a bird's wings or feathers surfaced for a moment.

"Wow," Harry whispered, sucking in another deep breath, completely awed. "Fuck," he murmured, mostly to himself, as his eyes continued to flick around trying to see everything at once. He stood up and inched forward, when Draco didn't move, either to back away or stop him, he ran a hand over one pale gold wing. Oh, Merlin, it was so soft! He quickly pulled his hand away when the wing flicked sharply, the feathers spreading out briefly, and Draco shuddered.

He stepped back, eyes glued to the way the wings flexed outwards with a grand sweeping motion of feathers and then arched upwards, spreading out. The feathers along the top lifted, puffing out a little, and almost looking fluffy now. He had no idea if it was a defensive move or an aggressive one. (Would Draco react like that towards his Mate?) Maybe the Veela was preening? Draco's expression was hard to read and he knew nothing about... er... wing language to help him sort it all out. His memories of Hedwig's body language was fuzzy and he didn't even know if it would apply, anyway.

Harry offered a sheepish smile, tucking his arms behind his back and squeezing his hands together tightly so he didn't reach out again. He didn't want to have this go wrong so soon. "I'm sorry."

Draco shook his head, and took a few deep breathes, trying to calm himself down. Merlin, how did he explain the touch hadn't hurt or was in any way unpleasant? It was indescribable; pleasure, awe, heat... It was all of those and more—a sensory overload. It was all so new and foreign to him, he honestly hadn't known _what_ to expect. His wings had moved without conscious thought or effort on his part. A part of him apparently knew he wanted to show off, display for Harry, but he wasn't entirely sure.

He took another few deep breaths, closing his eyes and trying to center himself. He was still thrumming and prickly-hot all over. Now was really not the time to pounce on Harry... Even if the wizard looked like he wouldn't object. It was, regrettably, too soon.

"No," Draco finally said, opening his eyes and giving Harry a small, reassuring, smile. He really wanted to wrap his fingers around Harry's wrist and pull him closer. Maybe trace his Bonding cuff with the more delicate feathers of his wings—for whatever reason. But he refrained. For now. "It's fine. It just... felt really good," he admitted.

Harry nodded slowly, eyes focused on the still tense Veela. His eyes roamed from Draco's face to the still arched up wings. They were beautiful, magnificent really, and he wasn't feeling intimidated or at all concerned to have Draco practically towering over him. Even with his claws still out and the thick magical aura surrounding him. It actually felt nice. He took a moment to enjoy the sensation before looking at back at Draco's face.

"Is that—" He pointed behind Draco, indicating his wing positioning, "—normal?" He wanted to move closer and touch them again, but he didn't want to do something inadvertently inappropriate.

"I really don't know," Draco admitted, giving Harry another small smile—it was sheepish and awkward this time. "I never got a chance to speak with my father about this... aspect."

It hadn't come up previously, most of his conversations with his father about Veela had been about their history, strength of his new-found magic that came with being Veela and how to recognize one's mate—not what to do once he'd had them, though. He was quite sure he would've been mortified to speak about such things as displaying and mating rituals but it almost would have been preferable over complete ignorance.

Especially now that he was presenting to his mate. He was relieved that Harry looked suitably impressed, however. He hadn't known how Harry would react. He couldn't quell the urge to preen when Harry looked him over again. He felt his wings shift again, stretching out and rising over his head again. Harry was staring again, appreciation and desire plain on his face and in his body language. It would certainly make thing a lot easier...

Harry nodded again and inched closer. He didn't like Lucius, there had been too much bad history there to think he ever would've (he was a little ashamed to realize he was a little grateful he wouldn't have to worry about that issue since the man was dead). He did feel bad for Draco, though; not having his father around to help him. This all had to be so confusing right now. He didn't think he was making things any easier because he was just as ignorant of what should (or would) happen right now.

He was close enough to gently lay a hand on Draco's arm, rubbing it in a soft, soothing manner. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Draco said shortly. Harry's touch wasn't exactly soothing, even if he knew that was Harry's intent. He couldn't ask him to stop though, not when he was looked at with understanding and a little sadness. He tried to wave off Harry's concern, mainly because he hadn't intended to bring the mood down with mentions of his father. He stood straighter, making a noise in the back of his throat, when Harry's hand slid up and caressed his wing again, moving along the strong bones and feathers at the top of his wing, as if he couldn't help himself.

He couldn't suppress a shiver and his wings, involuntarily, arched higher and then curled slightly, brushing against Harry's shoulder gently. He leaned in, going with the urge, needing to be closer.

"Holy shit," Harry muttered, shuddering almost violently as soft feathers swept upwards and brushed along the edge of his jaw and along his neck. Was it normal to be so affected by a Veela's wings? Was it because he was Draco's mate? He didn't know but he sure as hell liked it, regardless. Draco was looking at him warily and he smiled, "It's OK," he said, realizing the blonde was waiting for a reaction. Or he'd misinterpreted his reaction as anything less than feeling amazing and... tingly.

Draco couldn't help the relieved smile. He finally noticed the tinge of pink on Harry's cheeks and neck. The dilated pupils. The way Harry was breathing. The way Harry's body angled towards him. _Oh_. His wings fluttered (apparently now demonstrating his pleasure without his conscious thought) brushing along Harry's neck and shoulder again, ruffling his messy hair briefly. He crooned softly when Harry shuddered and swayed closer. Now that Harry was closer, Draco could _smell_ the effect he was having as well as see it.

Oh, this was all very good.

"How OK?" he asked cheekily, concentrating and drawing his wing lightly down Harry's upper arm.

Harry's eyes slowly opened and trailed over the Veela as he licked his lips with a quick, darting sweep of his tongue. They were suddenly quite dry... "Very."

Draco grinned and stepped closer, focusing on his wings and deliberately drawing one, gently, down Harry's side and making it wrap around the wizard's waist. He hadn't realized his wings were so agile. And strong; he was able to pull Harry against his side with just a thought and small contraction. He didn't think now was the time to wonder at how dexterous his wings could be as well, how fine or delicately he could get the movements, but he couldn't help teasing his mate a little. Harry wasn't complaining and he appeared to be having a hard time keeping himself upright.

"What about now?"

Harry nodded blankly, swallowing with some effort. The caress was warm; both arousing and comforting at the same time. It was indescribable and he only knew he wanted more. "Fuck," he muttered, unable to think of anything else to say when feathers gently slid down his chest, pausing a fraction of a second at his navel before sweeping away. Draco didn't look put-out, though. Matter-of-fact, the Veela looked downright smug. Naturally, he couldn't just stand there and allow that...

He gently grabbed the closest wing and slid his fingers through the larger feathers, the ones that were tipped dove-grey, wiggling his fingers gently. He watched Draco closely and gave his own smug smile when there was a full-body shudder and a soft crooning moan as pale eyelids flickered closed over darkened silvery eyes. Well, that was encouraging.

"Is this OK?" Harry asked quietly, running his palms along the broad feathers with a gentle caress that had Draco's wings fluttering gently and the Veela sucking in a quick breath. They were so soft but he knew, somehow, they could become sharp as razors or even be used protectively like a living shield. Fleur had said something about that, anyway; that a Veela's wings were more than just for show.

"No," Draco said, struggling with the answer and the ability to speak. Harry's hand immediately retreated and Draco grabbed his wrist, his thumb making soft circles over the still jumping pulse-point. He pulled Harry close, tucking him under his arm and wrapping him in his arms and wings. He hated that he'd been misunderstood and his short answer had his mate pulling away.

He gently nuzzled Harry's hair, not-so-subtly inhaling a lungful of the familiar scent. "I didn't mean it bothers me," he said softly, looking at Harry intently. He was trying to convey his thoughts without having to speak, but Harry was only looking up at him with his eyes slightly wide with confusion and absolutely not helping his resolve at all. He really did not like all of the uncertainty, especially if it made Harry pull away.

"It's very... arousing," Draco finally said, almost muttering it. It was slightly embarrassing; he didn't normally have to say such things aloud... "And I— _We're_ not ready for things to progress." He didn't think he'd be able to rein in his instincts past a certain point and neither of them were ready to consummate their union. Soon, but not now. He was deeply regretful he had to stop and he hoped if he managed to keep from fully displaying, if there could be... explorations without fear of going too far.

He really hoped Harry would be amenable to that. Later, of course.

Harry felt his entire face warm, Draco's implication clear. "Right," he said with a nod. It made sense there would be a defined order to things. As much as he was affected by his Veela in full display, he knew they weren't quite at the point of... full consummation. Yet. He felt ready (oh, Merlin, very ready), but he had yet to give Draco is Bonding cuff or any of the other gifts he'd planned to give Draco over the time they waited for the Bonding cuff to be crafted.

He pulled back and slowly brought his hands up to cup Draco's face. He stared, a little mesmerized and fascinated he was looking at Draco Malfoy and the only thing he wanted to do was kiss him. So he did; Draco didn't back away or refuse him either. Wings wrapped around him again. It was warm and sweet, making his pulse jump with heat and something better than desire.

Draco crooned softly, running his hands gently down Harry's sides and sliding them around his waist, his fingers splaying over the small of Harry's back. He just needed to hold Harry close for a few moments, until the raw feeling subsided and he could bear to part with his mate. It was probably because he was in full Veela mode he was unable to suppress that urge like he normally could. Harry didn't seem to mind, so he enjoyed the moment.

He felt a puff of breath against his neck, and he could feel Harry's lips moving, but he was unable to hear what was said. "What was that?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. He knew Harry felt something too... But he didn't want to think his imagination was making him hear things.

"I think—" Harry paused, feeling nervous and shy all of a sudden. He hadn't meant to say anything and he was a little worried Draco would think he'd been influenced... "Will you displaying affect me... emotionally?"

Draco could only shake his head, unable to speak around the heavy lump in his throat for a few moments. He swallowed a few times until he could croak out a soft, but audible, "No."

"Oh," Harry whispered and tucked his face into Draco's neck. He felt silly for asking but he had just wanted to make sure that feeling of love hadn't been influenced or manufactured. But it wasn't; he genuinely loved Draco and it felt like being smacked with a bludger when he was able to identify it for what it was. He knew Draco had a very good idea of what he was feeling because his eyes were practically blazing with emotion. Did he say it now or wait until— "I love you."

Oh. Well. It seemed it was now. He watched Draco blink rapidly and he was suddenly enveloped in white and warmth again. He hummed with contentment, happy to stay where he was forever.

"And I love you," Draco whispered, unable to believe he'd heard those words already. He knew Harry cared about him and even felt affection for him (it wasn't hard to see it, Harry wore his heart on his sleeve and in his eyes). But love? It was almost too good to be true and he slowly loosened his hold on Harry, needing to see.

"Since when?"

He felt wretched asking such a question... What sort of mate questions the love they can _feel_ radiating towards them? He was mostly curious when it came to be, not that it existed, and he was relieved to see that's how Harry took the question: as mere curiosity and not suspicion.

"Well," Harry said slowly, snuggling against Draco's chest and humming with contentment when he was held close without a second thought. "I don't really know," he said honestly, unable to think of a particular time or instance. He almost wished it was like in books or movies: he'd feel a whammy or something and just _know_ the moment it happened. But it wasn't that simple; it was just... there.

Draco just nodded, absently rubbing a hand along Harry's upper arm. He was pleased beyond words that his feelings were returned, even if he didn't exactly know how to show it. It just wasn't something he knew how to do. He was a little surprised he hadn't choked on returning the words, quite honestly.

His hand paused by Harry's elbow and he made a conscious effort to push the wizard away. "I don't think I can do this."

"What?" Harry blinked rapidly, confused. He couldn't read Draco's expression but his wings were... droopy. Maybe he'd been pressing too close and temping the Veela past his comfort levels? He hadn't meant to; he knew they had to wait for anything sexual to occur, but he didn't think there was anything wrong with holding each other. He felt tension slowly settle in his shoulders and back when Draco shifted away, sitting down on the sofa and refused to meet his eyes. The Veela seemed to shimmer and melt away, disappearing like a mirage until it was just Draco sitting there, stiff and tense.

He couldn't believe— Was Draco changing his mind about their Bonding? What would that meant for the Veela? Could he even do that? He wanted to get closer, maybe sprawl himself across Draco's lap, and demand answers. But he couldn't move, he was stunned and reduced to just staring at Draco and willing him to explain.

Draco firmly avoided looking at Harry. It felt like a punch to the sternum to realize he would disappoint his mate— _Harry_. Eventually. And most likely repeatedly. He wasn't a demonstrative man, he'd never really learned how to be; he'd been taught the opposite, actually. He'd been trained since he could remember that showing any emotion or hint of his true thoughts was a sign of weakness, something that someone of his station and breeding just didn't do. He never had a firm grasp on the whole thing, especially around his parents, but he'd always tried his best to seem aloof and unmoved.

Harry had always been an exception, though. Since he'd met the wizard, he'd never managed to keep himself from reacting to him; even if it had been negative for a majority of their relationship. He didn't think years of letting a sneer or a scowl slip past his efforts of a calm exterior counted in the ways that would be important now.

Sure, he didn't mind when Harry twisted their fingers together and held his hand but he never reached first. Hugging was another oddity that Harry always had to initiate first. He never understood how some people could go around hugging all the time, but when Harry would tuck himself under his arms and press close, he sort of got it. Not that he went around hugging people now; just Teddy and Harry. Hermione snuck a few in on occasion, as well, when the witch knew he wasn't going to object.

Draco had no issues kissing Harry, but that wasn't entirely intimate; Harry hadn't put up any resistance and he did enjoy pulling the wizard close for chaste pecks and mind-melting snogging sessions. That sort of thing was easy, for the most part and it was one of the few times he would be able to let what he was feeling out.

Harry deserved someone that would adore him, _openly_ , and return the kind of love and affection that practically oozed from the wizard when he was around those he loved and cared about. Harry deserved it, plain and simple. And as comfortable as he'd gotten with being less reserved around Harry (and Teddy), he didn't have confidence that he'd ever be able to fully reciprocate. He knew he didn't have the sort of strength to leave Harry, not now that he'd found him and he knew Harry loved him as well. But he didn't think he could be what he needed, either.

It was confusing and it was starting to make his head and chest ache.

"Draco?"

Draco's head snapped up, immediately alerted by the choked voice. Shit. He was already failing miserably at this beloved business. His hands clenched together and he didn't know what to do to sooth Harry. "Yes?"

"What did you mean..." Harry trailed off, unable to finish. He just looked at Draco. He was glad Hermione and Teddy weren't home so if he had a completely immature break-down that might possible involve tears or something equally embarrassing, there were fewer witnesses. He didn't relish doing it in front of Draco either, but he felt a little petty at the moment and didn't care if the blonde saw how upset he was. Draco kind of deserved it for pushing him away and saying something like that, like everything that had happened between them was suddenly a big mistake.

Draco cleared his throat. He knew exactly how his words sounded and at the time he meant them. However, looking at Harry's stricken face and feeling the urge to comfort was a revelation. He looked down at his hands. They were twitching a little, most likely with the urge to grab Harry and stroke him with reassuring touches. It was... odd and not something he was expecting. He looked back up at Harry and offered a small, rueful smile.

"I'm shit at being open, Harry."

"I know."

Draco scowled a little. He had honestly expected a little more disagreement...

Harry smiled a little, oddly comforted by the indignant expression wrinkling Draco's forehead and making his mouth pull down. "I know you, Draco. I know you aren't all lovey-dovey and all that rubbish." He slowly sat on the other end of the sofa from Draco.

Draco's scowl deepened and he shifted closer as soon as Harry settled. He didn't blame the wizard for sitting so far away but he didn't like the distance, even if he did deserve it.

"Doesn't that bother you?" He watched Harry carefully and was disheartened to see a suspicious sheen cover Harry's eyes before he looked away. He waited for criticism or maybe an angry demand for the proper treatment someone labeled 'beloved' deserved. Instead, Harry merely shrugged one shoulder and rubbed the heel of his palm into his eye as he looked away.

"A little," Harry admitted, picking at a pill on the sofa cushion. He slowly looked back at Draco, "But I don't think it'll always be like that. I mean, when we first started getting to know each other, I never would have imagined I'd ever see a smile on your face," he teased. "Or that you'd let me hold your hand. Or that you'd sit on the floor and play with Teddy." He smiled warmly at Draco; he treasured that memory. It was the first time he saw Draco playing with Teddy's Muggle toys without a fleeting look of bemusement or making a subtly rude comment.

"I don't know, Harry," Draco murmured, feeling a trickle of hope anyway. Harry had a point; he had changed. Learned. Of course, it hadn't happened overnight, but he barely thought twice about letting himself smile or show small signs of affection—in the privacy of Harry's home, at least.

He even warmed up around Hermione and once the witch showed him open kindness, he would let his Malfoy-ness (as Harry had taken to calling it) crack, offering her a smile or not kicking up a fuss when Harry would hold his hand or other touches in front of her. He'd been extremely embarrassed Hermione caught them on the floor that time, after the fact and he'd been in his right mind again, but she hadn't mentioned it again past making sure they kept touching regularly to keep it from happening again.

"I'll probably never be comfortable with excessive displays in public," Draco said, thinking about the couples he'd see staring lovingly at each other and making gooey eyes at each other over sundaes as they spoon fed each other. It was a little revolting, honestly, and he really hoped Harry wouldn't expect such displays in the future. Holding hands or sitting closer than politely acceptable was one thing, but he didn't think he'd ever get to the point of being an outright Hufflepuff, Veela instincts or not.

Harry snorted and patted Draco's knee. "I really don't mind that, Draco. I'm not exactly into that sorta thing, either." Draco will touch him in public, but the contact was always chaste, even if somehow still intimate. Draco's hand would settle on the small of his back as they walk through doors or he'd let his hand rest on Harry's knee when sitting down to eat. Anything overt would probably make him nervous or tense, expecting gawking and whispering.

"I'm sorry," Draco finally said, feeling foolish. He hated that he made Harry doubt (and almost cry) but he was actually relieved he'd brought it up. Even if he should have done it in a better way. He covered the hand on his knee with his own and was reassured more than words could ever express when Harry's hand turned and slotted their fingers together. It was brief, Harry letting go almost immediately, but it still was reassuring. "I didn't think before I said something stupid."

Harry chuckled, finally letting his shoulders relax. "I think it'll happen a lot," he said with a small smirk. "For both of us," he added. He was pretty sure Draco wouldn't be the only one to say something dumb, blurting something out before thinking. He could appreciate the urge to run away when it got difficult, but he didn't often give in to that temptation. And he'd try to get Draco into that habit as well, if he could.

"Just—" He shifted closer and tentatively reached out for Draco's hand again. He smiled when Draco was quick to slot their fingers together this time and give a squeeze. "Just, say something instead of closing up or running off? I really think we can work out whatever comes our way but only if we try to sort it out."

"Alright," Draco murmured, rubbing his thumb along Harry's knuckles. "That would be a new thing for me, as well." He nearly blurted something about not being a foolhardy Gryffindor, but he didn't. He knew rushing into things was second nature to Harry, but that ended with feelings and such for him as well. He knew enough about Harry to know he was just as unfamiliar with the talking and sharing thing, but he was filled with a sense of determination that was just a part of him. So, Draco would be too.

Harry hummed and moved until he was against Draco's side again. He smiled as he was man-handled until he was tucked under Draco's arm, their linked hands resting against his chest. "Me as well, but I think we can do it."

.|.

Harry watched, quietly, as Hermione paced in his kitchen. Her hands were flying about her head and she was making inarticulate sounds of anger every few turns. He'd tried to get her to sit and calm down, but she hadn't been able to keep seated or still for more than a handful of seconds before she was up and raving again.

He sighed, his eyes drifting down to the table top and this morning's _The Daily Prophet_ ; the cause of all the upheaval that was still playing out. He actually liked the picture taking up most of the front page. It was a lovely, candid moment—even if was taken without his permission and a gross violation of his (and Draco's) privacy. He was reluctantly impressed that someone had managed to charm a short video, taken on a Muggle mobile, into a wizarding photo so it could grace the front page.

He was staring at photo-Draco's soft, barely-there smile, fighting the urge to sigh like a love-sick fool, when he was drawn from his thoughts by a sharp smack on his shoulder. "Ow! 'Mione!" He rubbed at his shoulder, pooching out his bottom lip.

"You're spacing out again!" Hermione huffed, tucking her arms against her chest and glaring at Harry indignantly. "I don't care if it's a nice photo, it's— It's a—" She cut herself off with a aggravated sound, her hands coming untucked and balling into fists. She whirled around, unable to finish her thought, and went back to pacing.

Harry nodded dutifully, folding the paper and turning it over so he wouldn't be distracted again by the lovely picture of Draco smiling and looking absolutely gorgeous. He knew Narcissa and Teddy were in the photo as well, on the periphery, but he really could only see Draco. He figured it was his growing Bond with the Veela.

"It's a violation," he supplied for her, watching her pace and sputter. Hermione lost for words wasn't something he'd witnessed often at all.

"Yes!" Hermione cried, throwing her hands up. "A violation! And one that shouldn't be taken lightly, Harry." She viciously jabbed a finger towards the paper, scowling darkly. Harry was surprised she hadn't wandlessly cast an _Incendio_ with her glare alone. "This could be very bad—not just for you, but for Draco!"

Harry nodded. He was aware of that. It was really the only thing that kept him from scoffing, cutting out the picture for a scrapbook and just ignoring the whole mess. He slowly turned the paper over and sighed softly as the headline practically shimmied across the page in something that could almost be described as ecstasy.

_Draco Malfoy: Veela? Claiming the Boy-Who-Lived as his Mate?_ was in bold, four inch high letters.

The article underneath was full of questions (barely phrased as questions and more like accusations) about Draco's possible Veela heritage. Reading further, a brief synopsis of their 'history'; from Hogwarts to just after the war. And then proclaimed, proudly, the suspicion that Harry was the Veela's destined life mate. (He wasn't able to stifle at laugh at the article's heavy insinuation at the complete irony of such a thing—he agreed, even though it pleased him thoroughly.) Why else would Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter be sitting together, calmly and what could be called intimately, at a café and making doe eyes at each other? (Which, OK, maybe Harry was guilty of doing just that, but he was sure no one would recognize the look in Draco's eyes as 'doe-eyed' unless they knew him well.)

It wasn't even the only time they'd gone out together, but it didn't surprise him that they'd be 'caught' in one of the more intimate outings they'd had. It should probably piss him off that the good mood of his shopping trip with Narcissa (and part of Teddy's face) was now displayed for everyone to see.

Of course, it was all true. The fact it was there in black and white made him uneasy. He knew Draco hadn't been public about his Veela blood; none of the Malfoys, for generations, had let the information out of the family. He felt terrible to be the one that ruined everything. They hadn't even Bonded properly and they were already the topic of gossip. He groaned softly, unsure what affect this would have on everything.

"I swear, I should've crushed her when I had the chance," Hermione hissed, eyes narrowed and her fist clenching tightly as if she had Beetle Rita Skeeter in her palm. She could only imagine Draco's reaction; there was a reason he hadn't made his Veela heritage known, for Merlin's sake. To be ousted like this...! She didn't have words for how angry it made her, for both Harry and Draco.

Harry cleared his throat, uncomfortable with a blood-thirsty Hermione. Merlin help the poor sod that leaked the story if Hermione got her hands on them... "Please calm down, 'Mione. It's really not good for the baby," he said quietly.

"I need tea," Hermione said without acknowledging Harry's comment, and whirled around to make herself busy. Her magic was wonky these days and doing it the Muggle way would give her something to focus on, so she didn't mind. By the time she was setting two mugs on the table, pushing one towards Harry, she hadn't calmed much. "I'll kill him," she muttered and blew on her tea.

Harry's mug stopped halfway to his mouth. "Who?" he asked slowly. He suddenly got a very bad feeling in his gut when Hermione's head raised slowly and she gave him a humorless smile before grimacing with something akin to guilt. Her gaze lowered back to her tea, watching the steam curl up.

"My lovely husband," Hermione said through clenched teeth. Harry made a strange sort of noise and she looked up. She sighed, nodding sadly when Harry gaped at her. "Why do you think I'm here so early?" she asked, carefully sipping at her tea.

She'd been sleeping poorly the past week or so, trying to get comfortable as her belly grew, and shuffled down to the kitchen for some tea. She was surprised to see Ron up, a steaming mug in front of him as he read a letter. Her suspicious nature, not normally directed at her spouse, was immediately piqued when he tried to hide the parchment the moment he heard her enter the kitchen.

She was faster than Ron gave her credit for and had the parchment in her hand in seconds, her eyes flicking over the words printed there. Naturally, her suspicion grew when she realized it was a Gringott's statement. Why would Ron hide this? Well, that confusion lasted only until she actually _looked_ and saw a large deposit in their account.

All it took was a glare and shaking the parchment, Ronald blinking rapidly at her as he tried to think of a good excuse. She couldn't imagine where the money had come from; Ron never got bonuses that large. It hadn't taken much for Ronald to blurt out the entire thing.

It all boiled down to one thing: He'd sold his friend out for 10,000 Galleons. It still made her hands shake with anger when she thought about it.

"He thought he was helping," she said with a snort. Ronald was smarter than that, they both knew it, but it was the only reason she'd been able to get out of her husband. Well, that, and they could use the money. He even had the nerve to eye her growing stomach meaningfully.

Harry sagged in his chair. " _How_? This won't help anyone, least of all me."

Hermione nodded sadly. "I know that, Harry. He seemed to think it was helping. I think he thinks you're... not thinking clearly," she offered hesitantly, shrugging sheepishly. Ron had said as much whenever the subject of Harry and Draco came up. He'd insist Harry was being manipulated or flat-out lied to. Or doped with a potion. He still didn't believe Draco was Veela and simply used the excuse to get Harry's sympathies.

It was so ridiculous she hadn't been able to speak. Ron, of course, had taken it for her agreement and nodded understandingly at her, reaching out to take her hand. When she felt her hands itching to grab her wand, she left; it was that or hex her husband into next week. As thick as he was being, she didn't fancy being a single parent.

"Huh?"

Hermione sighed softly. This wasn't a new issue and she really wished Ronald would grow the hell up and visit Harry and Draco with her once in awhile. He'd see the Draco she had come to know and enjoy being around. He'd see with his own eyes how Draco interacted with Harry and Teddy, the warmth and love he practically oozed the moment Harry was in his sight. And, of course, how Draco got on with her. She was reasonably sure Draco would be polite to her stubborn husband, even if Ronald didn't return the favor.

She just didn't understand how Ron could think it was a story or an act to get in Harry's good graces (or his pants).

"He doesn't believe Draco is a Veela," Hermione said. Harry stared, absolutely gobsmacked. He'd been unaware of that. "Nothing I say convinces him."

Harry fought down the urge to blush, remembering very clearly that Draco was indeed a Veela. He had witnessed it first-hand himself. As much as he wanted to share that information, merely to offer confirmation mind, he didn't at the same time. He felt... protective of his Veela _,_ er, Draco; almost possessive. And very unwilling to share such intimate details. And Hermione wasn't the one that needed convincing, anyway.

But he really had no intention of having Draco 'prove himself' to Ronald Weasley, either. He refused to allow anyone else to see the Veela... Well. Unless they were about to be attacked by an enraged Draco, completely displayed in anger. It was quite an arousing thought. Which, surprisingly, wasn't as worrisome a reaction to have (as he might've thought it would've been a few weeks ago). And as tense as things had been with Ron recently, he didn't wish that on his friend.

"What are you thinking?" Hermione asked, looking at the contemplative expression on Harry's face.

Harry startled and willed himself not to blush. "Nothing. I just didn't know Ron was being that big an arse."

"Well, he is," Hermione said shortly as she stood and went back to her slightly-waddling pacing. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be doing this here."

Harry waved a hand at her. "It's fine, 'Mione." As much as he didn't want to see Hermione stressed out, he knew she'd be worse if she hadn't left. He could only imagine how angry she'd had to have been to've left instead of having it out with Ron. "Is there any convin—"

They both started and turned wide-eye towards the kitchen door as it slammed open, the room suddenly filled with an enraged Draco. Harry fancied he could see the shimmering outline of stiffly arched wings. There was probably something a little wrong with him when a shiver of heat went through him.

"Draco?"

Draco stalked into the kitchen, nodding curtly at Hermione as he entered, and slammed a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ on the table. "Have you seen this?" he demanded. It wasn't clear whom he was addressing, but as usual, Harry threw himself at the danger in the room.

"Yes," Harry said quietly, staring at the paper instead of looking at Draco.

He didn't know what to do and he flicked his gaze up at Hermione helplessly as he started to wring his hands in his lap. Was this enough to have the Bonding jeopardized? Delayed? Would Draco want to hide away in the Manor for a few years until the fervor died down? He could read nothing but anger from the blonde and he was genuinely nervous (and starting to get a little scared if he was honest with himself).


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A quick note; I know it seemed like it was setting up to be a Ron the Evil Git sub-plot (well—he is a bit) but this won't be a Ron bash-fest... He's not my favorite character, but he's not gonna be a handy whump target. He does need a whack upside the head, though... And, I'll apologize in advance for the awkward stopping point._

"Draco?"

Draco stared, finally registering the expression on Harry's face. There was a hint of fear there and it speared him to realize _he_ was the cause. He was on his knees in front of Harry, gently taking his tightly clenched hands between his own. He rubbed at them until they relaxed. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"No!" Harry blurted out. He flushed and hurried to continue; "No. I mean... _I'm_ sorry. None of this woulda happened if—" He blinked when a long, pale, still-slightly-clawed finger pressed against his lips, cutting off any further words of apology. Draco looked... embarrassed?

Draco shook his head, his anger already gone. Now he just felt... chagrined. "Harry," he said softly, lifting the hand held in his and kissing along Harry's knuckles. "I don't care about that. I'm not pleased to see that rubbish on the front page, but I was concerned _you_ would be upset." While it wasn't something he believed in his younger years, he now knew how much Harry hated being in the paper. It didn't help that most of the previous articles printed about the wizard weren't very flattering.

Or entirely true.

A huge picture on the front page, first thing in the morning, had to've been an upsetting shock for his wizard. He could only imagine how upset Harry would've been to have Teddy's picture splashed across _The Daily Prophet_ —even if the child was barely seen. Harry was fiercely protective of the little boy (and he starting to feel the same way).

"Well... Yeah. I am," Harry said, frowning a little. "They had no right to spy on us and say such things about you, Draco."

Draco felt the urge to preen and couldn't help crooning softly as his fingers gently flexed. He couldn't help it; his mate reacting like that just did that to him. Harry shouldn't be thinking about _him_ in all this, but he was. Harry was probably always going to surprise him... The very idea pleased him immensely.

"I'm fine. I can easily foff this off as another of Skeeter's wild stories. I've already alerted my solicitor and I wouldn't be surprised if a retraction was in a special evening edition. As if people would honestly believe I was part Veela," he scoffed, rolling his eyes and grinning at a staring Harry.

He wasn't sure why Harry thought anyone would believe that rubbish; he himself knew how prone to lies and gossip _The Daily Prophet_ was. Most people did, even if they still read the dratted thing. The fact it _wasn't_ lies and gossip this time didn't matter; they'd set a precedent for such rubbish and it would be easy to convince everyone else it was more of the same. He honestly wasn't worried; he'd just been enraged to see Harry being focused on again.

"There's a source, Draco," Harry said quietly, squeezing Draco's hands so the blonde wouldn't jump up and demand revenge. He blinked, feeling a little dazed and stupid when Draco merely smiled, even if it was mostly teeth. He cocked his head a little, honestly confused. He really didn't see how this could all be laughed off... Or smiled about. This was serious. Wasn't it?

"Sources can be fabricated, love," Draco said. "Especially when listed as 'confidential'."

Harry eyed Draco warily. "What if people _do_ believe it? It's not _that_ farfetched, after all," he added, giving Draco a pointed look. Most people knew little about Veela, which the blonde knew very well. The idea that Draco was a Veela really wasn't so hard to believe; especially if you only knew about Veela being pale and gorgeous. And that summed up what the majority of the wizarding world knew about Veela—if they knew anything at all.

"You've managed to keep this secret until I came along," he said sadly, looking away.

He felt miserable about that part. Harry sighed and went willingly enough when Draco's fingers pinched his chin gently and his face was turned back towards the Veela. He was a little confused to notice Draco was looking a cross between amused and smug. It was... confusing.

"Then people know Malfoys are even more powerful," Draco said blithely, waving his free hand dismissively. He knew there was a small possibility there could be some gossip about the not-so-pure-blood in his family tree (after all, gossip ran rampant in pure-blooded circles—worse than a Muggle hair salon), but no one would dare say anything to his face. Or to Harry. Of course, if there was to be any 'impurity' in one's genes, Veela would be the most preferred (and sought after).

And since it was already out that he'd found his Mate, according to the article, he knew he wouldn't be getting crude offers and marriage proposals from those that _might_ believe the whole Veela nonsense.

Well, he might, since people were quite rude and presumptuous. But they'd be _Incendio_ 'd without a second thought. He was perversely curious to wonder what Harry's reaction would be to such letters... He didn't mind admitting to himself that he'd almost like to see his mate in a jealous rage. Harry would probably be breath-taking brimming with righteous indignation. The only times he's seen it in the past, he was too young (and stupidly biased) to enjoy the sight. He came back to the present to see Harry giving him an uncertain look.

Harry was still eyeing Draco warily. "Really?" he murmured, tone tinged with disbelief. "Your mother won't have problems with this getting out?"

"She might," Draco admitted. His mother had always been fiercely protective of him. The woman lied right to Voldemort's face for him, for Merlin's sake. But he also knew she'd defer to his judgment about this if he asked her to. Not only was the the Malfoy heir, he had proven to having a better head on his shoulders these days. "I'll let her know it's fine and that'll be that." He could appreciate Harry's continued skepticism (he had gotten to know his mother well, after all) but he hoped Harry would trust him. "And that's all unlikely to be an issue, because people won't believe this to be anything but utter shit."

Harry reluctantly nodded. "Alright, if you say so." He looked at Hermione and sighed softly. He couldn't _not_ tell Draco what he knew, even if Hermione was shaking her head subtly, her eyes slowly widening as she cottoned on to his thoughts. "I know who the source is, though."

"Really?" Draco said slowly, eyes narrowing. He had been convinced that 'source' wasn't anything but fabrication. How would Harry know anything about it? Few people knew the truth and even fewer would actually offer such information to a publication (or, so he thought). He took in Harry's averted gaze and the strange silence behind him and Hermione's presence was becoming less of a mystery now...

"Yeah. It... It was Ron."

Draco huffed out a breath, feeling truly shocked. He almost thought Harry was having him on, until he saw the look on his wizard's face. Not to mention it wasn't exactly something to joke about, not with the way they'd been getting on (or _not_ getting on, more accurately) as of late.

He turned his head to look at Hermione. Thankfully, she didn't look afraid, but the look of guilt on her face was intolerable. He honestly didn't blame her, either. Short of a compulsion charm or an _Imperio_ , no one could control their spouse's behavior. "I don't blame you, Hermione," he said, inclining his head when she relaxed and eased into the chair next to Harry. He patted her hand and was pleased to see it relax. He didn't want to see her stressed; it wasn't good for the baby.

"I am rather surprised he would do such a thing," Draco said thoughtfully, a slight frown on his face.

He wanted to tear into something but he kept his anger at bay, locked under a cool expression of indifference. He couldn't believe Ronald Weasley would do such a thing to his best friend. The selfish wanker had to've known how this would affect Harry. But they were mature adults now and he was determined to sort this out. Properly; if at all possible.

"Right," Draco said, getting to his feet. He gave Hermione a small smile, "Kindly owl your husband and invite him for tea."

Hermione's eyes went wide again and she looked to Harry. He looked just as confused. She looked back at Draco, her eyes slightly narrowed. "Why?" She didn't think Ronald would come, willingly, to speak with Harry (and Draco); especially not now that he'd done such a thing. He'd been avoiding visiting Harry since Draco visits had gotten so frequent. She knew the chances of him coming now were somewhere between 'fuck' and 'all'.

"I wish to speak with him," Draco said gravely.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other then back at Draco. The blonde didn't look upset, per se, but he didn't look happy, either.

"Why?" Hermione asked again, unable to sort out the reasons on her own.

Well, she had some ideas of course but she didn't want to blurt them out and offend Draco. A few hours ago, she would have said the whole lot of them were past petty school-yard actions, and she highly doubted Draco was interested in thumping her husband one, but she was feeling decidedly frazzled right now. Even if she was still upset with her husband, she didn't fancy setting him up to be cornered by a pissed off Veela. Even without the slight against Harry, she knew Draco could be vicious when defending those he cared about.

"Because," Draco said, giving Hermione a patient look, "This has gone on long enough, no?"

Harry could guess, but he asked it anyway; "What has?"

"This... discord," Draco said with a short huff, waving a hand around with quick, agitated jerky movements. "It's starting to test my patience and I refuse for this to continue any longer." He gently took Harry's hand, smoothing his clenched fingers out and gently rubbing his thumb into Harry's palm. "You miss him," he said softly. As much as he'd love to continue having nothing to do with the Weasel, he knew it would make Harry unhappy if things continued as they were.

He really didn't know if anything could be done, but he intended to find out.

Harry nodded, even though it hadn't exactly been a question. He should probably be used to Ron having a strop and cutting himself off from their friendship by now, but he still missed his best mate... er, friend. Even when he was being a bloody wanker. "Yeah. Why do you care?" he asked, grimacing when he realized how it came out. "Bugger, I didn't mean it like that, Draco," he started and was cut off by Draco chuckling and rubbing his palm again.

"I know what you meant, love. And I care because it upsets you," Draco said, trying not to blush or feel like a complete sap for saying such a thing. Out loud, at any rate. He smiled, pleased with himself when Harry gave him a look that filled his body with warmth and made him want to let his wings out. "I'd rather not spend the rest of our days avoiding the git or you moping about missing him."

Harry huffed, trying to be annoyed, but it was hard when Draco was being so sweet. He wondered what it took for Draco to say such a thing, especially considering him and Ron had never gotten along. He scooted forward in his chair and brought Draco in for a hug, barely having to tug on the blonde's hand to have him moving in close with his arms already lifting in anticipation of what he'd wanted. He tucked his face in Draco's neck and sighed softly.

"I don't know how well it'll work," he finally said, muttering it against Draco's skin. He felt a light shudder work through the Veela's body and he pulled back a little. Now was not the time (or place) to suddenly get distracted by trying to get Draco to shiver again. Or make that noise in the back of his throat that made Harry want to do... things with his hands (and mouth).

"I can only try, Harry," Draco murmured, rubbing his palms over Harry's back. He leaned back, reluctantly, and eyed Hermione thoughtfully. "Will he come if you send for him?"

Hermione considered the answer. Ronald might rush right over if he thought she was ready to forgive him... "Probably. I was in a right state when I left, so it's likely he'll come here without thinking if I ask him to. What are _you_ thinking?" she asked, intrigued despite herself. A thoughtful Draco wasn't always a good thing... Especially if the Veela felt her husband's actions threatened Harry in any way. She was still ticked off at him, but she really didn't fancy the idea of allowing an enraged Veela, thoughts of protecting their mate driving their actions, access to her hapless spouse.

"That we need to have a long over-due conversation," Draco said somberly.

Hermione nodded, sighing softly, and just took the paper and pen that Harry held out to her. She hadn't heard him _Accio_ them (or leave the room to get them). She bent over the paper, writing furiously for a few moments. She handed it to Draco, silently seeking his opinion on the missive. It was hard keeping her temper from the words, but she thought she'd managed the right line between possibly-forgiving and chastising. It wasn't like Ronald wasn't used to that sort of thing...

She didn't know what to think when Draco didn't even glance at the words she'd written, merely sealed the letter with a nod of thanks.

"Excellent," Draco murmured, standing and walking from the room. He'd send it and hoped Weasley had the appropriate response in a timely manner.

Harry glanced at Hermione but she was pointedly staring into her tea. He sighed and contented himself with just waiting for Draco to come back since Hermione wasn't in the mood to share her thoughts with him. He turned when he heard shuffling footsteps, that definitely weren't Draco's, approach the kitchen.

"Harry-daddy?" Teddy asked through a yawn, rubbing at his eyes. He blinked owlishly up at Harry-daddy and then looked around, noticing Aunt Hermione. "Aunt 'Mione?" He didn't know why Aunt Hermione was there so early, but he didn't really care. It was always nice to see her. He crawled up into Harry-daddy's lap, snuggling into his chest.

"Did we wake you, Teddy?" Teddy yawned again and shook his head, his honey-brown bed-head tickling Harry's chin. "It's awfully early," he said, rubbing along Teddy's back. Teddy was normally an early riser, but he looked half-asleep still and ready to drift back off any moment.

Teddy shrugged. "I wasn' sleepy anymore," he mumbled. His tummy made a gurlgy noise and he perked up a little when he thought of something. "Can we have waffles?"

"Sure," Harry acquiesced with very little persuasion. Well, so much for any thoughts of getting Teddy back to sleep now that his stomach was awake. And craving waffles, apparently. He looked up when Draco strolled back into the kitchen and smiled when the blonde's gaze went to Teddy and softened with affection. It didn't take long for Teddy to notice Draco's presence and he was suddenly left with an empty lap.

"Mister Draco!" Teddy was already scrambling off Harry-daddy's lap and attaching himself to Draco's legs. He giggled when his hair was ruffled and he looked up, "Are you here for waffles?"

Draco just nodded. He was not a fan of waffles but Teddy didn't need to know that. Teddy leaned away from his legs and made a gesture with his hands. He found himself bending over and picking the child up, setting him comfortably on his hip, before he even realized he meant to do it. Teddy looked pleased with himself and Draco couldn't help smiling back at him. "Are you going to help make them?"

"Yeah!" Teddy cried, suddenly very glad Mr. Draco was there. He loved helping make waffles, even if Harry-daddy didn't let him use the Muggle waffle iron. He bounced in Mr. Draco's arms, more than pleased to be awake now. He patted Mr. Draco's chest, "You gotta help, too. Harry-daddy will prob'ly let you use the waffle iron," he added, leaning in and speaking so only Mr. Draco could hear him.

Draco nodded, keeping his face the picture of seriousness. He had no experience with Muggle appliances and it was quite likely he'd hurt himself on the item more than Teddy would.

"How about we go to Ginny's, Teddy?" Hermione asked, finally looking up and getting to her feet. Teddy adored going to Ginny's, a cute little Muggle style diner than Ginny ran with her fiancé, Colin Creevey. She couldn't remember the last time they'd stopped by and figured her sister-in-law would love seeing Teddy again. Even if it most likely would end up with Teddy stuffed full of fried dough of some variety and unhealthy amounts of sugar.

And she really didn't want to be here when Ronald came, if she could avoid it.

Teddy's eyes—a bright, happy blue at the moment—widened as he turned to Hermione with a big smile as he nodded enthusiastically. "Can't go in our pyjamas," she added, nodding at the adorable koala onsie the little boy was wearing. She grinned when he whooped happily and was set on the floor before having to ask Draco to let him go. She watched him run out of the kitchen and cocked her head, waiting for the footsteps to go up the stairs before turning back to Harry and Draco.

"Well, now there's no messy kitchen to deal with," she said to Harry and left the kitchen with a wave of her fingers and a smile.

Harry just smiled, pleased to be offered a respite from scraping dried and caked on waffle batter off the counters and the waffle maker. A few minutes later, he heard the front door close and he was still smiling. But it wasn't until he heard the floo chime did he realize Hermione had willingly abandoned him. And took Teddy, too.

Oh, the sneaky witch.

He never considered that she'd want to give this a miss... He was so used to Hermione being the go-between—the referee as it were—between him and Ron, he wasn't sure what would happen now. Even if they were adults and supposedly past such things like immature, jealous snits and ignoring each other. Would they immediately start rowing? Would they stand there, unable (or unwilling) to speak for Merlin alone knew how long?

Harry looked up when Draco's hand settled on his shoulder and squeezed. He couldn't quite tell what Draco was thinking... besides barely concealed amusement. Of course, Draco had figured out Hermione's abandonment the moment the witch mentioned going to Ginny's to Teddy. He almost wished he'd been paying closer attention; he would've followed. He could be enjoying Colin's amazing coffee and a croissant or something instead of doomed to a chat with Ron. And Draco.

"This is probably going be be horrible," he said, looking up at Draco and trying not to whine. Or sound completely resigned to, and surprisingly indifferent to, the fact this was going to go pear-shaped the moment Ron stepped out of the floo. He didn't think his friend had managed to squash his urge to fly off the handle... Draco being here was just going to make things a thousand times worse, most likely. He managed to suppress the urge to groan and cover his face with his hands, but only just.

Draco scoffed softly and slid his hand up Harry's shoulder until he was cupping his neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I assure you, I'm going to remain reasonable."

"I wasn't worried about you," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes a little. As if he hadn't seen how cool and collected Draco could remain in the face of anyone's wrath. With the only exception being Narcissa Malfoy (and it tickled him to realize Draco was still a bit of a mummy's boy), Draco maintained a cool exterior in any tense situation.

No, he was worried about Ron being his usual self and making the situation worse. He didn't think he'd be able to handle Ron's harsh words about Draco any longer. His throat and chest felt constricted at the very real possibility of being forced to choose. If it came down to that, he already knew what that choice would be...

Harry forced himself to breath out and stood, doing so carefully so he didn't dislodge the comforting hand still on his neck. He was brought into a close embrace the moment he was standing and willingly surrendered to it, his arms wrapping about Draco's waist. He didn't quite get how Draco thought he couldn't do affection and comfort, easily, but he didn't mention it at the moment and just soaked up the warm comfort.

The kitchen door opened and Ron stared at the sight before him. He was stunned, quite honestly. Of all the things he'd been expecting when he got Hermione's owl, it wasn't a cozy scene between Harry and Malfoy in Harry's sunny little kitchen. The reason he'd had to come through the floo without an answer or someone to greet him was obvious now and his irritation about that deflated a bit. A niggle of doubt squirmed through him and he cautiously stepped into the room, easing the door closed so it wouldn't bang.

He could see his wife wasn't anywhere around, but he couldn't help himself from asking "Herm?" anyway. The reaction was immediate (and he, reluctantly, felt a little bad for being the one to interrupt the peaceful little scene); Harry and Malfoy leaned apart enough to see a bit of daylight between their bodies and he was suddenly the sole focus of two intense gazes.

Harry was the first to find his voice. Or maybe Draco just waited for him to speak first, because he'd barely finished saying "Ron" when Draco's hand tightened on his hip and he greeted the red-headed wizard in a civil manner.

"Weasley," Draco said, cool and polite. He wasn't sure what to make of the Weasel's puzzled expression but it was probably a good start there wasn't yelling. Or that he hadn't been hexed off of Harry the moment the Weasel saw them. He didn't check with a _Tempus_ how long they all stood there, staring at each other, but it felt awkwardly long.

He softly cleared his throat. "Tea?"

Harry looked at Draco. The blonde was the picture of politeness but he felt a bit off, nonetheless. Probably because _he_ should be the one offering tea (or maybe a firewhiskey, even if it was barely past 9 in the morning). He slowly pulled away from the blonde, not really wanting to but knowing it had to be done if he was meant to be talking to a still quiet and wide-eyed Ron. And being a proper host. "I'll get it."

"No, sit," Draco said, leading Harry two steps to the left towards a chair and pressing down on Harry's shoulder. He appreciated the attempt but he could manage tea. He looked to Weasley, "You as well," he said, inclining his head towards the table.

He stood taller and nodded once when Weasley immediately complied, sitting across from Harry with a mildly confused look on his face. He didn't linger; he decided to give the two wizards a moment of semi-privacy and went about making tea. He'd watched Harry do it enough times, he felt rather confident he could do it without having to wave his wand about.

The extra time appeared to be needed since Harry was simply staring at Weasley, looking uncomfortable and rarely looking up from his clasped hands that were resting on the table. Weasley wasn't faring much better...

Draco idly wondered if Ron was the only Weasley Harry was at odds with—well, except for Hermione. Not that he usually counted the witch as a Weasley because he still considered her 'Granger', regardless of her married name. A mention of going to Ginny's earlier hadn't seemed to bother Harry past a sudden urge for Muggle baked goods once he'd sorted out that he'd be left with the Weasel on his own.

"How's the family?" Draco asked Weasley as he set the tea down on the middle of the table. He sat next to Harry, keeping his expression one of polite interest, and poured. He was starting to feel a little out of his element at the continued silence. It just wasn't normal; people usually attempted polite small talk by now. And he'd take stilted small talk about the sodding weather at this point if it meant the heavy silence would ease even a fraction.

He glanced at Harry and saw him looking completely stunned. "What?"

Harry shook his head a little and accepted the mug from Draco with a small smile. "I think we're just both surprised you asked after the Weasleys."

"Oh. _That_ ," Draco hummed and leaned back in his chair. He wouldn't admit it aloud, but he enjoyed the informal setting. He felt Harry relax as he casually brushed a hand through his own hair and let his elbow rest on the back of Harry's chair. Oh, his mother would be horrified at his blatant lack of decorum but it put Harry at ease so it was worth it. "I was under the impression you still associated with them?" he asked, looking at Harry.

Harry nodded, his eyes darting to Ron for only a moment. "Yeah. 'Course."

He suddenly realized Draco hadn't known that before now. He hadn't made any conscious choice to keep Draco and the Weasleys apart (or from even mentioning them to the Veela). He'd just been... distracted. He suddenly worried Draco wouldn't be too pleased at having to deal with the rest of the Weasleys... especially if Ron was being such a prat. He really didn't want to discuss this in front of Ron, but now that it was brought up he really wanted to know what Draco thought.

Apparently, his thoughts were clear enough for Draco to interpret without him having to say anything because he got a small smile from the blonde and a gentle brush of fingers along his shoulder.

"And that, love, is why I asked," Draco murmured. He wanted to grin when Harry merely blinked at him, obviously taken by surprise.

Yes, he understood why Harry would be surprised but it didn't change the fact that he knew it was only a matter of time before he'd be socializing with Weasleys. He was starting to wonder why it hadn't come up as of yet and he found himself hoping it wasn't something Harry had been doing deliberately. It probably shouldn't bother him (on the contrary; it should probably thrill him), but it did and he made a mental note to ask later. He was not going to be the one to get between Harry and the Weasleys, not since he was aware of how important and cared for the family of red-heads were by his wizard.

Draco gave his attention back to the present Weasley. "So. Care to explain yourself?"

"Er," Ron sputtered, floundering for a moment, taken by surprise to suddenly be included in the conversation.

He had expected to see his wife. He had expected to be yelled at—maybe even hexed a little. (That expectation had briefly doubled when he realized Hermione wasn't about and it was only Malfoy here, with Harry.)

He had not expected to see Harry and Malfoy sharing an intimate moment. He had not expected to be greeted cordially and offered tea. And he certainly did not expect that the only person that would say more than two words to him would be _Malfoy_.

Draco waited, sipping his tea, while Weasley gathered his thoughts. After a solid minute of silence, he carefully put his tea down and folded his hands in front of himself on the table. It was mostly to keep from grabbing his wand (or rub his face in frustration), but it helped quell the urge to slap Weasley around as well.

"Let's start at the beginning, shall we?" Draco started. Weasley just stared and made a soft grunting sound. Draco was taking that as a 'yes'. "What motivated you to share such information?"

Ron swallowed thickly. OK, so he didn't fully believe the whole Malfoy-is-a-Veela-and-Harry-Potter-is-his-mate thing, but _The Daily Prophet_ ate it up like Harry inhales treacle tart. He briefly considered playing dumb, but it was clear what Malfoy was referring to...

"Uh..." He rubbed at his forehead, suddenly feeling like a complete prat. The money, while helpful, hadn't been that big a motivator. At the time it had seemed like a grand idea; Malfoy would be embarrassed and hide. Or he'd be enraged and leave Harry. He hadn't expected this reaction at all...

"Were you hoping this would, somehow, motivate me to leave Harry?" Draco asked, an eyebrow raised. Or possibly the alternative; _Harry_ leaving _him_. Which, he had to admit, did concern him for the briefest of moments when he first saw the article. Rational thought was quick to return and he should have remembered Harry wouldn't do something like that. He was just too damn noble, really.

And, he remembered feeling warm (and a little smug), Harry loved him.

"Yeah," Ron admitted, shrugging a little. "I mean, c'mon— You? A Veela? What happened to being pure-blooded and all that rubbish?"

Draco's hands tightened but he managed to keep from doing anything else. He was quite sure even if he did explain, it wouldn't sink into Weasley's thick skull until he was ready to accept it. And he clearly wasn't—if he ever would be. He just didn't understand how Weasley could so consistently fail at being a faithful friend. Or how harry could still be emotionally affected by it. He knew it was a callous thought, but he honestly thought Harry would be used to it by now.

If only because he couldn't stand to see the pain and stress it caused his mate. That alone, in his opinion, was enough reason to dislike Weasley even if they hadn't had any past history.

"As if you'd believe me anyway?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Weasley looked a little uncomfortable and he tried not to revel in it. Served the bastard right for being such a blabbermouth. Harry looked interested in what the red-headed was going to say but he mostly just wanted to string the wizard up by his bits for being such an arsehole.

Not that he _would_. But it was so tempting... He had to console himself with just the mental images.

"Well, er... probably not," Ron admitted, fiddling with the handle on his mug.

He looked to Harry and saw his friend's attention was on Malfoy—Harry was blushing a little and he had this weird little smile on his face. Ron's eyebrows drew together in confusion as he tried to remember ever seeing such a look on Harry's face before. He couldn't... and he was starting to see how Hermione could justify not caring about the veracity of Malfoy's still-as-of-yet-questionable Veela heritage (which she insisted was indeed true) because she must've seen Harry make that dopey, gooey face before.

Ron reluctantly returned his attention to Malfoy, unsurprised to find him staring back at him with a cool expression on his pointy face. The grey eyes were surprisingly animated for all the blankness of Malfoy's face. Even if he couldn't sort out what such a look meant...

"I see," Draco said smoothly and leaned back in his chair. He had no intention of proving anything to Weasley but it rankled more than he wanted to admit that the idiot didn't believe him—and most likely wouldn't, even with a full explanation. The red-headed pillock was one of the few people to know about his heritage and he didn't believe it? It was a little rude, honestly. "And why is that?"

Ron's lips pursed and he tried to think of a better excuse than 'Because you're a sneaky snake that'll say anything to get what you want'. Or the equally immature 'I just don't like you'. Both were true to an extent but he also knew it wouldn't help any thing (or anyone) to say either aloud. He didn't so much care about offending Malfoy but he had a feeling Harry wouldn't react favorably.

"It just seems unbelievable," he finally said. He felt justified in his disbelief; he _did_ remember how they all were in Hogwarts, after all. Malfoy hardly went a day without strutting around, boasting about his wealth and blood status. It was hard to grasp that things were so different now. Yeah, he knew they weren't 11 anymore, but some things were hard to let go.

"I assure you, it's true," Draco drawled. "Do you honestly think Harry would let himself be fooled in such a way?"

Ron tried not to squirm and he offered Harry an apologetic look. "Kinda, yeah," he admitted. He felt like a great big arse when Harry's face fell, looking like someone kicked his crup. "Harry's always been the type to see the best in people." He grimaced a little, knowing how he sounded, but needing to be honest. Malfoy did ask... "He's still a little... naïve when it comes to that sorta thing."

" _Naïve_ ," Draco repeated, trying to convince himself of it. He couldn't; it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. Of all things he could call Harry, naïve wasn't one of them. He couldn't imagine how Harry's best friend (his brain skittered away from using the word 'mate'—even in a platonic way) could say such a thing and _mean_ it.

Did Weasley not know the man sitting across from him at all?

"Honestly? You think Harry is naïve?" he asked, trying not to scowl. Or do anything rash like haul Weasley over the table and slap him around for saying such a thing. Instead, he forcibly relaxed his hands and let one rest on Harry's neck again. He didn't care what Weasley thought, ignoring the red-heads slight grimace and quickly averted gaze; he was in need of the contact. And if _he_ was, Harry definitely would be.

Ron shrugged again. Of course, naïve wasn't quite the right word, but it was close enough... "Kinda. Obviously, he's had some... uh... interesting things happen to him but it hasn't changed the fact that Harry is too nice a bloke." At times, he almost envied that Harry could still see the bright side of things (and people) after all the shit he'd been through.

"Ron," Harry sighed, shaking his head a little. He sort of understood what Ron meant but it really didn't make him feel any better. Ron thought he was some gullible fool? He tried his best not to bristle at the events of his life being called 'interesting things', either. He had the idea that Ron thought be was complimenting him, somehow, but he certainly didn't feel all warm and squishy inside just because Ron said he was 'too nice'.

"That really doesn't explain why you thought going to The Prophet with my personal business was a good idea," he said lowly, glaring across the table.

Ron fought the urge to squirm and tried not to feel affected by the obvious anger from Harry. He hadn't seen that sort of look on his friend's face in years... Probably not ever, actually, since he couldn't remember actually having it aimed at him before (even if he might've actually earned it a time or two). He didn't have a good reason to give; it had been a spur of the moment decision that, at the time, seemed like a good idea. Colin hadn't lost his love of taking pictures and when he'd shown him the short video he'd managed to capture of Harry and Malfoy on his Muggle cellphone, things just clicked. The perfect solution. He hadn't even considered Harry's feelings on being in the paper... He doubted the years made Harry more amenable to it.

Not to mention it was an extremely private matter.

"I didn't exactly think that through," Ron admitted sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. He grimaced, annoyed at his lack of forethought.

Unfortunately, before he could offer any sort of actual apology, which he now knew he owed both wizards, the loud noise of several owls interrupted him.

"Oh. _Bugger_."

Ron paled a little when he saw the number of owls tapping at the window, sitting on the ledge and any other place they could perch. Some were holding red envelopes and looking decidedly impatient to deliver their missives and get out before the Howlers went off.

Harry sighed, wishing he had thought to put up wards against all owl post and not just anything deemed harmful. He wanted to snort; Howlers, apparently, weren't considered harmful. Just a bloody nuisance. A messy, loud, nuisance.

And there were several.

Double bugger.


	10. Chapter 10

Draco went to the window, biting back the urge to curse... Mostly Weasley's arse into the Thames.

The owls wouldn't leave until they'd delivered what they held and it was obvious Harry's wards weren't helping keep all of the unwanted mail out. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or enraged as he caught several owls' progress halted by the wards, any envelopes containing harmful hexes or curses disintegrating as they passed the wards and making the unlucky owls fly off with loud, indignant hoots.

Well, at least he was a little more secure in the knowledge none of the envelopes coming towards the house were hexed. Little a comfort as it might be...

As soon as he opened the window, envelopes practically poured in, pooling at his feet. He was stunned to see most of the Howlers being delivered to Harry, the wizard flinching as each one landed, smoking ominously, in front of him.

It was probably a ridiculous move he learned from Harry, but he was standing in front of the wizard as soon as the first red envelope rose, hovered, and went about screaming. He knew a Howler wouldn't harm Harry, but it wasn't like he could just stand there and _not_ do something. He poked the charmed missive with the tip of his wand, sending it another few feet away. When that thing went off at the end of its rant, he didn't want it anywhere near them.

Ron watched as each Howler went off on Harry, his eyes widening with each threat to the Savior. While he hadn't believed in the whole Malfoy-is-a-Veela thing, apparently quite a few people in the wizarding world _did._ Enough to threaten Harry and chastise him if he even thought of not accepting Malfoy's attentions.

Apparently, now that the prat had been outed as a Veela, people thought he should be treated with the respect and admiration as any other Veela (regardless of how diluted the blood) would be. It all felt surreal, quite honestly, to realize the same people that would've sneered at Malfoy for being a former Death Eater were now defending him and sending angry letters to Harry The-Bloody-Boy-Who-Lived-Twice Potter.

" _Being a Veela's mate is an honor, Mister Potter!_ " the Howler screeched, bobbing up and down in the air in apparent righteous indignation. Malfoy had been witness to a fair number of people drafting a Howler and he was quite sure this particular author had been pacing as they dictated. " _No one would refuse! One simply can't! It's unheard of! You'd be responsible for the death of a truly magnificent being!_ "

Ron continued staring, the words _magnificent being_ echoing in his head, as the Howler continued in that manner for another few moments before destroying itself and disintegrating into a pile of ash with a flash and an angry hiss.

He slowly turned to Harry to gauge his reaction and his mouth dropped open a little as he looked at his friend. Harry was looking amused and oddly content because Malfoy had backed him up a few feet and had, at some point, changed their positions so he was holding Harry against his chest with an arm around his midsection. Malfoy's other arm was against Harry's side, his wand was held loosely in his hand. A lazy flick of his wrist and the pile of ash Vanished.

Ron didn't know what to make of the fact both Malfoy and Harry were almost smiling as they decided which Howler to listen to next. Were they... _enjoying_ this?

"Not what I expected," Draco admitted, his chin propped on Harry's shoulder as he looked at the growling pile of mail. The red envelopes were down to two and both were, apparently, for him. He could only imagine what their contents would be... Probably some rubbish about defiling the Boy Who Lived or something.

Granted, he intended to; but that wasn't anyone else's concern.

"No," Harry agreed. "But it seems like everyone is convinced you are a Veela," he murmured, worrying his bottom lip for a moment. "It's going to be a tad difficult to deny it, now."

Draco scoffed softly and rolled his eyes a little, patting a hand reassuringly on Harry's chest. He kept it there and just barely withheld the urge to give Weasley a smug look when Harry leaned into him, shifting his shoulders a little to make himself comfortable. "No, it really won't be. This just proves how gullible people are," he added, nodding towards the mail pile.

"But—" Harry huffed and turned around, narrowing his eyes at Draco, "You _are_ a Veela, so, denying it will..." he trailed off, unsure how to say 'be dishonest' and not sound like a judgmental prat. It wasn't like Draco was obligated to confirm or deny a sodding thing, but a denial would probably wind up biting him in the arse later. "Just ignore it. They'll find something else to gossip about soon enough."

Draco scoffed again. "You really think so?" He raised an eyebrow, daring Harry to say otherwise. He didn't want to imagine the kind of scandal that could upstage this sort of news. Voldemort's reanimated corpse in a tutu might do it...

"No," Harry admitted, sighing with annoyance and defeat. He finally remembered Ron was still in the kitchen and he gave his friend his attention. "Is this what you had in mind?" he asked as he cocked his head towards the mail. He scowled, more irritated than upset now.

Ron shuffled in place. "Not exactly," he said, rubbing a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, mate."

" _Harry_ ," Draco said through clenched teeth. His arms tightened around Harry and he forced himself to loosen his hold when Harry made a soft _oomph_ sound. He waited for Harry to bristle at his possessive tone and hold, but so far, Harry just seemed content to keep glaring at Weasley from his comfortable spot in Draco's embrace.

He glared at Weasley over Harry's shoulder, not even bothering to suppress the flair of magic working through him and giving Weasley a small peek of his Veela. He felt he'd admirably restrained himself from ripping Weasley's throat out for daring to use the word 'mate' for _his_ mate. Luckily, he was rational enough to know it wasn't intended as anything than a slip of the tongue. Even if he did know Weasley had no interests in Harry past friendship, he wanted to make sure the wizard knew the appropriate ways to address his mate in the future.

"Yeah, right. I'm sorry, Harry," Ron quickly corrected himself. He blinked when he realized what he'd done. Alright, that was a little awkward... He had no intention of doing anything Malfoy demanded but it was kind of hard to ignore the riled state the git was in. Malfoy was actually a little scary with that feral look.

And he could almost swear he saw feathers for a moment...

It was possible he'd been to hasty with his denial of the whole Veela thing. Ron found himself wishing Hermione was here; he was used to admitting being wrong to her. And she rarely hexed him once he said he was sorry, not when he was sincere and fully prepared to do whatever was required for forgiveness. Malfoy looked ready to stick his wand somewhere that would be extremely painful and he didn't know what to do; he wasn't so sure Harry would be that eager to keep Malfoy from doing something unpleasant.

"But it _is_ true," Ron said, shuffling towards a chair and slowly sitting. Malfoy didn't look as tense as he had moments ago but his gaze was still intense and a little off-putting. "All of it?"

Harry rolled his eyes and patted the hands Draco had clasped in front of his middle until he let go. "Yeah, but you already knew that. Even if you didn't believe me," he said stiffly, glaring at his friend. "Why would you think I'd lie about something like that?"

"I didn't think you were lying," Ron pointed out, lowering his gaze a little. He thought he'd learned his lesson about not taking Harry at his word when it came to something important. "I mean, I figured Malfoy was pulling somethin'." He winced at the identical glares he received. "Yeah. Right. I'm sorta seeing it now, though."

Draco made a soft sound of annoyance and gently pushed Harry towards a seat. The Howlers had finally exhausted themselves and they'd get to the other letters once he'd checked them for _any_ sort of spell, hex or jinx. Even with the obviously dangerous ones already dealt with, he didn't want to take any chances. With a flick of his wand, the letters were neatly stacked and pushed aside with the tip of his wand.

"I'm really not interested in your opinion," he said as he sat down as well. "Up until this this point, I would have said I was willing to have any sort of cordial relationship with you for Harry's sake. I will not make him choose between us."

"I see," Ron said softly. The 'it won't be me losing' was left unsaid but clear, nonetheless. He found himself wondering if that offer was still an option. Harry and Hermione had managed to be in the same room as the prat without bloodshed, he could probably manage to. Eventually. When Malfoy wasn't glaring death at him and Harry didn't look like he wanted to bash him one.

He was curious if Malfoy (or Harry) realized how close they were sitting... It looked like a habitual thing, so probably not. His eyes flicked down to where Malfoy's hand disappeared under the table and he really didn't want to know where it was. Or what it was doing. The very idea that Malfoy would indulge Harry in hand holding was... weird. And made it hard to think of him as a sleazy git out to use his friend.

Draco raised his chin and leveled Weasley with a hard look. He really hoped the wizard did see because he was losing his patience. He had hoped Harry would be a bit more... vicious in their talk, really lay into Weasley and maybe even get a little physical. But he reluctantly understood why his mate seemed so willing to move on now that the consequences appeared to be so mild. Memories of Harry speaking about a lonely childhood and 'first friends' didn't quite sooth his ruffled feathers, since he felt Weasley was abusing that knowledge, but it explained Harry's willingness to let the situation settle.

That didn't mean _he_ had to be a push-over, though.

"However," Draco added, eyeing Weasley. "If you continue in your endeavors to separate us, _or_ cause Harry more stress, I will be forced to react."

"I see," Ron repeated, running a hand through his hair nervously.

He'd seen Fleur go all 'protective mate' enough times, over the silliest things at times, to recognize that glint in Malfoy's eyes. It was a safe bet that the subtle nostril flair was an involuntary reaction but it didn't make him any less uneasy. He didn't think Malfoy would be squeamish (or worry about getting blood on his fancy robes), if it meant defending Harry. He really didn't want to find out, first hand, how complete Malfoy's Veela transformation would be, either.

"Right," Ron agreed readily, nodding. Malfoy was still staring at him like he wanted to try a few Unforgivables... But Harry looked less angry. He rubbed at his forehead, realizing he'd have some major groveling to do. He looked between Harry and Malfoy for a moment. "So. It's serious, then?" He knew it was a dumb question but he wanted to hear it said.

Harry nodded, feeling the hand on his knee tighten a little. He knew he didn't have to prove anything, but it was hard to _not_ talk to Ron. Up until a few weeks ago, he did it all the time. Though, they did tend to shy away from relationship talk and discussions on feelings and whatnot. Mostly because it was awkward since Ron and Hermione were his best friends and he really didn't want to get that involved in the... intimate side of their relationship.

Plus, Ron was looking less critical and more... curious. Like he was interested—like a supportive friend would be. Good news, that. Although a look at Draco made it clear he was the only one thinking along those lines.

"Yeah, it is," Harry said. The hand on his knee squeezed again, but in a pleasant way, before sliding upwards a bit. He gave Draco a side-eyed look, flashing a brief but warm smile at him before giving Ron his attention again.

He lifted his shirt sleeve and proudly displayed his Bonding cuff, smirking smugly when Ron's eyes widened and he whistled lowly as he leaned forward with interest. He knew Ron would recognize a Veela Bonding cuff. The apologetic look on his friend's face was enough to smooth most of the rough edges of his earlier agitation. Of course, he knew Draco would require more in reparations from Ron, but he was satisfied.

"And I've picked out one for Draco." He didn't mention that they coordinated beautifully; he wanted it to be a surprise for Draco.

Ron looked expectantly at Malfoy, silently asking to see his Bonding cuff. It wasn't so much for proof but out of simple curiosity. He wondered what sort of adornments and all that Harry had chosen for the blonde. "You got one, too?"

"I will, yes. Harry's only just commissioned it."

Ron snickered, unable to help himself. It was weird to be comforted by the git saying something poncy like that. "I just bet," he murmured. He sat back in his seat and rubbed his hands over his face. He dropped his hands into his lap and sighed, giving Harry a sincerely contrite expression. "I really am sorry, ma—Harry. I don't know what I was thinking with... all that," he waved a hand vaguely towards the pile of letters and the folded copy of _The Daily Prophet_.

"Reckon you weren't at all," Draco muttered. "Jealousy, perhaps?" he said louder, trying to keep himself from snarling or sneering. He got the impression he was supposed to be grateful for the apology and suddenly be alright with Weasley's actions. Not bloody likely... but it did help to know the bastard felt remorse. Even if it was only for his own sorry arse. He allowed himself the fantasy of imagining Hermione castrating her idiot husband (maybe with Muggle gardening implements) and he felt a bit better.

Ron shrugged awkwardly. "Maybe," he mumbled and drained his mug, even though his tea was cold. Hermione had said he had issues with that sort of thing, but he honestly thought he'd gotten over it. Out-grown it, as it were. He didn't think he envied Harry anything these days; he had a well-paying job, a beautiful wife and fatherhood to look forward to.

"Or I just didn't know another way to keep you from 'im," he said, looking at Malfoy. He raised his hands when he saw Malfoy stiffen and sit up taller. He wouldn't be surprised if Malfoy called him out to a duel at any moment... "I'm not sayin' it was the best thing to do, but I was worried, yeah?"

"Ron," Harry said and sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair in agitation. "Honestly, you think I'd be that easily lead?" It still stung, no matter how many times he realized Ron thought him some incapable child.

"Not exactly," Ron said slowly. "Look, I know it's a moot point now..." he trailed off. Of course it wasn't like he hadn't noticed the way Harry stared at Malfoy _that year_. Or the awkward blush Harry would have whenever he saw the blonde at the later trials and whatnot. He had thought it had been anger or annoyance with Malfoy, but maybe it hadn't been. Either way, he wasn't comfortable with the idea Malfoy had finally noticed and the prat would use Harry's interest for his own self interests. "I just didn't want to see you taken advantage of. You didn't exactly hold a grudge after all was said and done."

Harry huffed out a breath and glared at Ron. "I don't think there's anything wrong with that." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. "Whatever, though. It doesn't matter. Now you know better, so stop being an arse. I'm not sayin' you have to be best friends, but it would be nice if Hermione didn't have to feel caught between us," he said, waving a hand around between them all.

"Right. Yeah," Ron said, nodding. It wasn't as if Hermione visited Harry (and Malfoy) often when he was home, but he only just realized how she'd stopped talking about her visits a few weeks ago when he got himself worked up into a right lather and ranted for over an hour. And she'd usually just roll her eyes and leave the room when he got in a strop about Malfoy. "I'll work on that."

They all turned towards the opening kitchen door.

Teddy ran in, headed right for Ron since he was the first one he saw. "Uncle Ron!" he yelled, attaching himself to the red-head's waist. He bounced a little in place, his hair turning a matching bright red. "I had waffles!"

"Hey, Teddy," Ron said. He ignored the smear of syrup left on his clothes and gave Teddy's hair an affectionate ruffle. He felt like an even bigger arse when Teddy unlatched himself and climbed into Malfoy's lap, his hair going a pale blonde as he told Malfoy all about his waffles with blueberry syrup. Malfoy was actually smiling a little and nodding at all the right places while Teddy talked a mile a minute. OK, maybe he wasn't such an evil git if Teddy adored him and the blonde could look that excited hearing about Teddy dipping his bacon in the syrup.

Hermione was standing by the door, her arms crossed and her foot tapping a little as she glared at her husband. The kitchen was in one piece, so that had to be good news. As was the lack of bodily harm and/or blood.

Ron knew that look and he offered a sheepish smile. He cocked his head, silently asking her to come over. He didn't want to interrupt Teddy's explanation about the way Ginny made a smile face in whipped cream on his waffle. As soon as Hermione was close enough, he wrapped a hand around her waist and gave her hip a gentle squeeze. He felt kind of bad about it, but he was relieved Teddy had bounced away from him to gush about his waffles to Malfoy. It left him free to give his wife all of his attention and groveling energies.

He watched Teddy gesture wildly, his still-sticky hands waving about. He narrowed his eyes briefly when he noted that the blonde's hand was splayed out over Teddy's back, obviously used to how Teddy wiggled and ready to keep the little boy steady. He pulled Hermione closer, nuzzling her mid-section a little and sighing with relief when she didn't smack him away. She was stiff in his hold but at least she wasn't still across the room. He was sure he'd be spending some time on the couch and that was a best case scenario...

"'M sorry," Ron murmured, burying his face in Hermione's shirt.

"I know," Hermione said. She shifted closer when Ron's hand went to the small of her back, his fingers seeking out the now ever-present stiff muscles. She was not ready to be nice to her husband just yet, but she wasn't as angry since Harry looked alright. Draco was calm enough but she could see the tension in the Veela regardless of his smile for Teddy. His gaze darted to her, eyes narrowing slightly, and she immediately understood her husband had far to go to be in his good graces.

Good. Serves the git right for what he did. She felt better about that, curiously enough. It warmed something in her to see Harry looked after in such a way (even if he'd probably pout if she was dumb enough to say it aloud).

"How did it go?" Hermione asked, planting her feet when Ronald tried to pull her onto his lap. She aimed a glare down at her husband when he had the cheek to pout at her. She was still mad enough to refuse the urge to snuggle in. Thankfully, he stopped his efforts and wisely kept his hands to himself.

Ron shrugged a shoulder, "Fine, I guess."

Hermione hummed, accepting the answer, her eyes on Teddy as he described their breakfast to an attentively listening Harry and Draco. Once Teddy calmed down a little, she'd get the box of pastries she'd brought back with her. Of course, Ronald sniffed them out first and she pushed the box into the middle of the table. Even Draco helped himself, eyeing the simple glazed doughnut he took out of the box with equal parts wariness and curiosity.

Harry hastily swallowed his bite of jelly-filled doughnut when the kitchen door swung open again.

"Mother," Draco said, primly wiping his fingers off on a napkin as he stood. He grimaced a little when he was given a cool look. A slightly raised pale eyebrow might not look like much, but it spoke volumes when Narcissa Malfoy aimed it at you. He was quite sure he was being reprimanded (like a sodding first year) because no one had heard the floo and escorted her in. He did feel a slight chagrin to realize even he hadn't noticed the floo chime and offered her a suitably contrite expression.

Apparently he was forgiven because she accepted the kiss he placed on her cheek. He smiled when Harry plucked Teddy off a chair, plopping him in his own lap, and he offered the now vacated seat to his mother.

Narcissa sat, aiming a smile at Harry and Teddy and inclining her head to everyone else. "Draco." She smoothed her robes over her lap, and her expression softened as she looked at Harry and Teddy again. "Harry. Teddy," she greeted. Her smiled widened for a moment when Teddy beamed and twiddled his sticky fingers at her. "Hermione. Mister Weasley."

She watched as Harry shifted Teddy into Draco's lap, her son taking the child with a small smile, and he stood to get more tea. Teddy's hair was pale blond and she melted a little inside.

Ron shifted awkwardly. It felt weird to be the only one addressed so formally. "Er... Ron, if you please, Missus Malfoy."

"Narcissa," she offered in return, inclining her head.

Harry set down two mugs for Hermione and Narcissa and refilled everyone else's with fresh tea. He set a plastic cup of milk down for Teddy, nodding when the little boy mumbled a 'thank you' around a large mouthful of doughnut.

Draco watched his mother carefully take a sugared doughnut from the pink bakery box and he slid a plate over. "I'm sorry I didn't contact you sooner."

"Understandable," Narcissa politely dismissed, breaking off a small piece of fried dough and examining it closely. She glanced at Harry and patted his hand gently, offering her comfort. "I'm quite proud you came here first, darling," she said looking back towards her son. Even if she wished she hadn't had to read the front page of _The Daily Prophet_ for herself, by herself, she was pleased Draco had immediately gone to Harry's side. "I'm sure you've already taken the appropriate actions?"

Draco nodded once. "I have, mother." His mother nodded her understanding and went back to her doughnut. He couldn't help watching, waiting for her reaction. He was pretty sure his mother knew she was eating a Muggle pastry and he was curious to see how she'd like it. Not that she'd do anything crass like spit it out, but he hoped she'd enjoy it as much as he had.

Waffles weren't so great but doughnuts were fantastic.

"D'you like it, grandmum?" Teddy asked, leaning towards Narcissa curiously. He could tell she hadn't had a doughnut before because she was looking at it funny and eating it all careful like, like he did with vegetables or weird things Harry-daddy tried making for the first time. He saw a small smile on his grandmum's face and he grinned widely at her, stuffing the rest of his doughnut in his mouth and chewing happily.

Narcissa sipped her tea and dabbed at her mouth. "I did have another reason for my visit." She realized she had her son's attention and she smiled warmly at him. "I need to borrow your Harry for a few hours."

"Why?" Ron asked, looking between Harry and Draco's mum.

Draco nearly narrowed his eyes at his own mother. He was quite sure the 'your Harry' was used deliberately. And while it did affect him in many positive ways, he was a little suspicious nonetheless. Instead of asking for more details, he merely inclined his head in acknowledgment.

Narcissa slowly turned her head to coolly regard Ronald Weasley, the only one that seemed inclined to question her. She considered whether or not to answer him for a moment. "I've been contacted by the Goblins."

"Already?" Harry breathed, his heart-rate suddenly spiking up with anticipation and excitement. He hastily wiped his hands down his pants, aware they were suddenly damp.

Narcissa shook her head slightly, offering an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid it's not ready yet. They contacted me with the intent to go over some of the smaller details." And if she managed to sneak in a few shops that specialized in traditional robes, all the better.

Harry nodded, half-relieved and half-disappointed. He wasn't quite up to going anywhere and he certainly wouldn't want to show up to pick up his Bonding cuff in ratty jeans and a jumper. He tried not to fidget in his seat but he must have failed because he was aware of being the center of attention.

Everyone but Ron watched Harry with a look of affectionate amusement. He knew he was missing something. "Goblins?" he asked slowly.

"Goblins," Narcissa confirmed, daintily sipping at her tea.

Teddy looked around, confused. "Goblins?" he asked as well.

"Yes, darling," Narcissa agreed, smiling softly. "The Goblins that made the jewelry your Harry-daddy is going to give Draco." The little boy's forehead wrinkled in confusion. She knew Teddy wouldn't be upset about Draco and Harry Bonding, but she didn't know how to explain life-mates or Bonding to a child. Harry and Draco both looked at a loss, as well, sharing a look as if daring the other to be the one to explain it all. "So they can be Bonded. Married," she added.

Teddy was still a little confused and he turned to look questioningly at Mr. Draco. "Married?" he asked. He started to get excited; had an idea what married meant... Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione were married!

"I'll stay with you and Harry-daddy. Always," Draco murmured, mostly for Teddy's hearing alone. He ducked quickly when Teddy flailed with excitement, fists pumping with a loud 'yay!' before little arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He smiled and hugged the little boy tightly, pleased to know Teddy was pleased. He was tempted to aim a smug look at Weasley, but he realized the red-headed pillock was busy dealing with Hermione at the moment.

"—it back!"

Harry looked between his friends, his brow lowered with concern. The reason for their hushed whispers wasn't hard to sort out but Hermione sounded fit to hex Ron six ways from Sunday at the end there. Ron was ducking his head and Hermione's face was a little pink. "What's wrong, 'Mione?"

"Nothing, Harry," Hermione said, offering a strained smile. She yanked her husband up and pulled him from the kitchen by the front of his robes.

Teddy giggled, muffling the sound with his hand when everyone turned to look at him. "Uncle Ron is in big trouble," he whispered in a sing-song.

"Yes, he is," Draco murmured, unable to hide the undercurrent of glee in his tone. He shrugged unapologetically at Harry. As far as he was concerned, he hoped the witch gave him a proper dressing down and that's why she pulled him to a more private area. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, they didn't go far enough and he could hear hissed whispers from the couple. He smothered a laugh, quite impressed with Hermione's vocabulary. It wasn't uncommon to hear words he had to look up, but he didn't often hear such profanity from the witch.

Harry leaned closer to Draco, eyes narrowed. "Can you hear them?" he asked, aware of the Veela's heightened senses. Draco nodded once and cocked his head, a finger over his lips. He was tempted to tell Draco to stop eavesdropping—but he was curious. He never had the greatest impulse control... He leaned closer, "What are they saying?" he whispered.

"Hermione is insisting the 'ill-gotten' Galleons be returned."

Harry smiled a little, pleased. He always could count on Hermione. Draco snorted and he raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

"Ron said he can't," Draco murmured. He looked at Harry and nodded once. It was virtually impossible to get Goblins to refund Galleons without there being a reason for it. They rarely made errors, it was one of the many things they prided themselves on. If the Prophet demanded the money back, they could—probably with interest for the error.

"He'd have to empty the vault himself and send it all back to the Prophet." He snickered softly into this fist when Weasley said the same thing to his irate wife. It was more of a whine, though. Weasley was no doubt horrified at the idea of trying to lug around that many Galleons. Featherlight charms only did so much. He heard Weasley continue, his tone pleading, shaky with ill-concealed apprehension (and a little fear). He winced and everyone heard the responding "So bloody what?! You'll do it, Ronald Weasley! Or else!" Hermione yelled at him.

Draco snickered again when he heard a murmured "Else what, 'Mione?" The resulting shriek of pain was rather enjoyable.

"Well, Harry, if you'll get dressed, we'll go as soon as you're ready," Narcissa said, wiping her hands on a napkin. As much as she enjoyed the mildly entertaining pair having it out in the other room, she was looking forward to spending a few hours with Harry. Harry nodded and stood, walking out of the room. She turned to Draco, smiling softly as she watched him entertain Teddy with some sort of counting game.

"Are you alright looking after Teddy?" she asked. She wouldn't have a problem changing her plans to include Teddy, but she knew Harry wanted to keep his design a surprise so she wouldn't ask her son along.

Draco looked up and fought the urge to roll his eyes at his mother. "Yes, mother. I've managed before. Just you and me for a bit, Teddy." He chuckled when Teddy whooped happily. "Shall we go to the park?"

"Yeah!"

Draco nodded and eased Teddy off his lap. "Right then. Change into play clothes and find your shoes." Teddy ran from the kitchen, his blond hair streaking orange. He turned his attention back to his mother and offered her a small, knowing smile. "Keep the shopping to a minimum, mother. Harry isn't fond of it."

"Thank you, darling, I'll keep that in mind," Narcissa said dryly. She was grateful for the warning but it was rather annoying her son saw through her so easily. "Even if we stop by a few Muggle shops?"

Draco pursed his lips as he considered. "That he'd probably handle easier." Harry came back in, cheeks pink and his hair sticking up from his rush to get dressed. He tsked softly with affectionate exasperation and smoothed the hair as best he could, kissing Harry's cheek. "Have fun."

"Yeah," Harry nodded absently, picking at the hem of his shirt. He wanted to ask if he looked presentable but neither Malfoy commented on his clothes, so he must do. He held his arm out for Narcissa, "Ready."

Narcissa folded her arm through Harry's and apparated them away.

.|.

Wings surrounded Harry. He pressed closer to the warm, firm body in front of him as hands slid along his back and sides. Something soft, like feathers, ghosted across his arse and he arched closer to Draco, moaning softly. He was amazed that the sensation that he found comforting hours ago now turned him on, to the point of writhing around shamelessly and making all sorts of noises he never expected to come from him own mouth.

Draco didn't appear to be at all aware of his reaction at first, merely continued with his soothing touches as those wings did other things. Harry made another low sound as he felt the obvious evidence of the Veela's arousal, pleased to see the Veela wasn't nearly as unaffected as he tried to pretend to be.

"Draco," he murmured, unsure if he should be embarrassed about making such sounds but he wasn't quite able to manage it when Draco's mouth was on his neck. He leaned into the nipping kisses, gasping softly as strong, agile hands slipped under his night-shirt and started doing the most amazing things to the delicate skin over his ribs and his nipples.

Draco made a soft sound, half croon-half moan, and detached his lips from Harry's neck with an effort. He really needed to explore more of his willing mate's body and he couldn't do that unless he moved about. He pushed at Harry's shirt until the wizard lifted up enough for it to be pulled off over his head and tossed carelessly to the side. He gently stroked his fingertips along Harry's sides and ribs, enjoying the way Harry shifted around making breathless little sounds somewhere between a laugh and a moan.

The blonde made another sound, one of triumph and pleasant surprise, as he trailed kisses down Harry's chest and nosed at the dark trail of hair on his belly. Draco smiled against the warm skin when he felt Harry's breath hitch and his hips involuntarily shift upwards. He lowered the elastic of Harry's pyjama bottoms with a sweep of his thumbs and nipped at a hipbone. He chuckled lowly when he heard a whispered curse. He pulled that the lowered waist of Harry's pyjamas, looking up when Harry immediately lifted his hips, easing the way for the material to be removed and toss to the floor.

Draco shifted until he was able to situate himself between Harry's legs, groaning softly at how eagerly those legs spread to accommodate him.

Harry watched as Draco just looked at his cock for a moment, before lightly trailing his long fingers the length of him. Not holding, just touching. He held his breath as Draco finally closed his hand around him, holding steady as a wet heat glided across the flushed tip, lips pursing as he gently sucked at the moisture beading there. His hands flexed in Draco's pale hair, but he didn't pull.

He was pretty sure Draco wouldn't appreciate hair pulling... At least, not yet. He hoped it would be allowed once they lost their minds to heated passion because he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his fingers out of that pale softness for long. It felt amazing under his palms and gliding through his fingers.

Harry's fingers tightened slightly and his knees flopped towards the bed when Draco kissed along his length, nuzzling at the patch of dark curls at the base. He gasped out a moan when lip-covered teeth followed the same trail just before he was engulfed in that tight, wet, warmth. He probably hissed out a curse because he could feel Draco chuckling.

He groaned and raised his knees enough to give Draco more room. "Fuck," he groaned when the Veela took full advantage of the space.

Harry jerked awake with a gasp and a flail of arms. He blinked into the dark, momentarily disoriented by the heated flush of his body and the warm weight against his back. Oh. Right. He was sharing a bed with Draco again. He exhaled slowly and readjusted himself carefully, making sure he didn't wake Draco. Though, if his flailing (and Merlin alone knew what sounds he'd been making) hadn't roused the blonde, it was probably safe to assume he was deeply asleep.

He wriggled closer to Draco, working his way under the blonde's arm so he could resume his position on Draco's chest. He settled back down with a soft sigh when Draco's arm tightened around him and kept him close. He probably should be embarrassed the position brought his crotch directly against Draco's hip, but it wasn't like either of them weren't familiar with a hard-on.

It was a bit of shame their bed-sharing was still platonic but he did like being able to just lay and cuddle with the blonde, too. He discovered, with no real surprise, that the Veela was quite fond of snuggling. As well as being quite good at it. He pressed closer when Draco made a sleepy noise and the arm he'd wormed under tightened around him for a brief moment.

Harry relaxed and his fingers found the Bonding cuff, a habit he noticed he'd gotten into. He smiled and shivered pleasantly when he felt the tingle of Draco's magic through the skin-warmed metal.

Merlin, he was so close to throwing himself on the blonde, now that he was warm and tucked against Draco's side, his fingers sliding over smooth, warm platinum. It was arousing, on so many levels. He shifted his hips a little, smothering a quiet moan against Draco's chest. He probably shouldn't be rutting against the sleeping Veela, but he couldn't seem to be able to help himself.

"Harry."

Harry stilled, heart thudding against his ribs and his eyes wide. "Draco," he whispered back.

"What're you doin'?"

Harry smiled a little, despite his warmed cheeks. Draco's voice was fuzzy and husky with sleep, but he could hear amusement and desire under the sleep-slurred words. "Nothin," he muttered, lowering his flushed face in case Draco could see it—it wouldn't surprise him if the Veela could see in the dark. He nuzzled against Draco's shoulder, his nose pressing lightly against the blonde's thin t-shirt.

"Nothin', eh?" Draco chuckled softly. He slid a hand down Harry's back until it rested on his arse. He grinned into the dark when he heard a soft gasp and Harry jumped at the touch. He was awake enough to notice Harry jerked towards his hand, as if he wanted firmer contact. He obliged, pressing in a little and flexing his fingers. Harry relaxed against him and he realized the wizard was wide awake. And not just from lingering arousal. His hand relaxed a little, gentling the contact.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," Harry mumbled, adjusting himself against Draco's side. He wasn't exactly sleepy anymore but if Draco kept close he'd hopefully be able to doze a little. He had a feeling Teddy would be up earlier than usual in the morning.

Draco hummed, not quite believing Harry. He slid his hand up Harry's side to his shoulder and urged Harry closer, resting his chin on top of his head. He wasn't sure how to get Harry talking, or even what to say if he actually managed it, but he knew he had to at least try. "Anything on your mind?"

"Bonding cuff," Harry murmured, summing up everything that was swirling in his thoughts. The visit to the Goblins, with Narcissa, had been a surreal reminder that in less than a week, he'd have a Bonding cuff to present to Draco. He barely noticed the many shops he'd been to with Narcissa and he was pretty sure Narcissa had used his stunned state to her full advantage. He could feel Draco waiting for him to continue, but he didn't know what else to say about it. He was just preoccupied with _everything_ that came with giving Draco the Bonding cuff. "I can't wait, actually."

He huffed out a surprised breath when he was suddenly squeezed against Draco's chest. He pulled back only enough to unsmoosh his nose from the Veela's chest. He could feel Draco's heart beating rapidly under his palm. Was that excitement? Fear? He worried his bottom lip and tried to sort out what to say.

"Sorry," Draco breathed, consciously making an effort to loosen his hold and let Harry breath. "I can't either," he said softly. He brushed his lips against Harry's temple, his eyes closing. He sunk into the comfortable silence for long moments, enjoying Harry's sleepy-warm scent and subtle aura of excited happiness. He sighed softly, "My mother will insist on a soirée."

"A soirée? Oh Merlin, liked a _party_?" Harry asked, his voice a little higher with a slightly panicked squeak. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that didn't mean there'd be an audience for when he gave Draco the Bonding cuff. He was fine with the small gathering that had been there when Draco gave him his, but anyone else...

Draco chuckled softly and rubbed a soothing hand along Harry's back. "She'll call it a social gathering, but it's going to be a party. After," he clarified. "She won't be able to help herself but I can make sure she'll keep the guest list small." He knew Harry would prefer a small, intimate gathering and he was sure his mother would be reasonable about keeping to Harry's wishes.

"Our presence won't be required for long," he added and smiled when he felt Harry relax. He was unsuccessful in keeping his thoughts from what would happen after he'd been given the cuff. He felt himself warm practically everywhere and cleared his throat. His voice still came out in a husked whisper, though. "It'll be for the best, since we'll be... preoccupied."

Harry leaned up a little, not at all missing the deeper tone. He figured after the cuff was given, there'd be some intense magical and emotional responses. At least, he assumed as much—there had been when he got his and he only imagine how strongly Draco would react. Doing anything but sequestering himself somewhere with his Veela seemed hard to imagine. "Preoccupied?"

"Yes. As I'm sure you've already guessed, having attention for anyone but each other will be difficult. Mother will know this but asking her to put off a celebration is unthinkable."

Harry huffed softly and flopped back onto Draco, closing his eyes. "Fine," he muttered. If Draco wasn't going to even attempt talking his mother out of the whole thing, he knew it was nigh impossible for anyone else to. He yawned and snuggled in comfortably. "Is an hour long enough?"

"Yes," Draco said through a chuckle. He heard Harry huff again but the wizard was back asleep before he could offer any further soothing words.


	11. Chapter 11

Draco opened the window for the owl tapping at the glass. He recognized his mother's Eagle owl, Caeneus, and held his arm up. He raised an eyebrow the bird swooped right past him and perched itself on the arm of Harry's chair. He scowled slightly when the bloody bird had the nerve to pointedly ignore him, lifting its tail feathers rudely and using its sharp beak to affectionately nip and groom at Harry's wild hair. His scowl deepened and he thought it was an enormous amount of restraint on his part that he didn't stomp over and twist his neck off his feathery body for having the audacity to do such things to _his_ Mate.

Wait.

Why was his mother owling Harry?

"Hello, there, Caeneus," Harry murmured, gently stroking the owl's chest feathers. He carefully untied the letter from the owl's leg and watched the bird fly off, apparently not needing an immediate response. Or any sort of treat for its efforts.

Draco closed the window with a huff and turned towards Harry. The wizard was staring at the missive with wide eyes, his mouth slightly parted. He frowned a little; it surely couldn't be bad news. His mother always preferred to deliver bad news in person whenever she was able.

"Oh, Merlin," Harry whispered, trying to still his shaking hands. He had an idea of what the letter contained and he was extraordinarily nervous about actually reading it. And excited beyond belief. He jumped when Draco sat on the same chair arm the owl had been on and unconsciously tucked the letter behind himself just enough to ensure the blonde couldn't take it from him.

Not that Draco would, but better safe than sorry and all that.

"Well? Aren't you going to open it?" Draco asked, his eyes flicking towards the still-sealed envelope peeking out from Harry's back. His mother had even put forth the effort of using exquisite stationary and an ornate wax seal. All in all, it looked quite over-the-top formal, verging on official. He was practically twitching with curiosity.

Harry could only nod and leaned into the kiss Draco pecked at his temple. He pulled the letter out from behind himself and eased a finger under the seal, wiggling until it popped free of the parchment. He tucked the letter close to himself as he read it, trying to keep Draco from peeking at it. "Stop," he muttered, pushing the blonde away when he attempted to lean closer.

"Why?" Draco huffed, pouting slightly. Harry was ignoring him though, so the effort was wasted. He had a feeling whatever his mother wrote Harry about pertained to him, as well. He wanted to know; he wasn't very good at self-control, even after all these years. He leaned closer again only to be halted by Harry's hand on his chest. He was tempted to keep pushing but he didn't really want things to escalate. Harry's magic was sparking, gentle but still strong and _there_ , across the fingers splayed over his chest and he knew things could turn serious if he kept pushing, so he gave up. It must be important and he was sure he'd find out.

Eventually.

"Is it a secret?" he deadpanned.

"Yes," Harry said seriously, refolding the letter and tucking it into his back pocket. Part of him almost hoped Draco would make a grab for it but it wouldn't save him any stress or heart-pounding. "It's about the Bonding cuff, you prat," he said, rolling his eyes and snickering under his breath when Draco looked genuinely put-out. The pout was quick to disappear and the Veela visibly preened, even going so far as to make a soft sound he could only call a trill. Merlin, if Draco got any fuller of himself, his wings and feathers would probably pop out. Tempting as that was, he really didn't want to stroke Draco's ego any further.

Harry leaned back in the chair, lips twitching a little. "Pleased with yourself, are you?"

Draco hummed and gave a serious nod. "I am, yes." He carded a hand through Harry's hair, unaware of the urge until he was actually touching the wizard. Not that Harry seemed to mind; he was leaning into the hand in his hair and his eyes fluttered closed. He curled his fingers and gently scratched at the wizard's scalp, quite like he was a kneazle. He idly wondered if Harry would start purring. "When?"

"Tomorrow at noon," Harry murmured, feeling the urge to purr as Draco's long fingers gently curled and he felt blunt nails lightly scratch against his scalp. Goosebumps broke out and a shiver ran down his body. "We're expected to be decent for the whole presenting thing around one, though." He probably would have fidgeted nervously at the idea if Draco's hand wasn't doing that brilliant thing to the back of his neck. As it was, he was no longer able to remember why he'd been so worked up.

Something about lunch...? He liked lunch, so whatever.

Draco hummed again, inclining his head slightly in a nod even though Harry's eyes were closed. "As I thought." He spent another few moments petting Harry (because, really, that was the only word for what he was doing to his wizard's head at the moment) before speaking again. "Shall I let Hermione know?"

"Yeah," Harry said, finally opening his eyes. "But..." he trailed off, unsure how to finish his thought. "Let her know just... her, yeah?"

Draco nodded, pleased far more than he probably should be Harry didn't want Weasley present. He'd like to think it was because of the prat's previous actions, he thought perhaps Harry just wasn't comfortable with the red-head being there for such an occasion. But it was probably more because the arse hadn't been there for Harry's cuff being presented. Either way, he was happy to send that particular message along. He had no interest in Weasley being there for such an intimate ceremony.

"I'll ask Mother if Teddy can stay the night, as well."

Harry nodded then froze, eyes widening a little. _Oh_. He hadn't thought of that... The very idea they'd need privacy made him flush all over. He looked up at Draco, stunned the blonde had managed to sound so calm about it. Of course, one look at the Veela made it clear _calm_ wasn't quite the right word. He had a little trouble swallowing when his eyes flicked up and met with half-lidded, darkened silver. "Alright," he finally murmured.

"Is that alright? I just assumed..." Draco said slowly, raising an eyebrow as he trailed off. He realized, a bit too late, that assuming anything wasn't a wise thing to do in any situation. But Harry had the unfortunate habit of making his common sense and rational thinking fly out the window. Especially since they'd gotten so close since he'd shown up on the wizard's front door those many weeks ago.

He'd feel foolish about such an assumption if he wasn't sure Harry was just as interested as he was in furthering their relationship. Of course, he didn't really expect a full on Bond consummation, but he definitely wouldn't refuse should it head in that direction. Once he'd been presented with his Bonding cuff, it was very likely that urge would be soon to follow.

"Yeah, it's fine," Harry said, "I just—I just didn't realize at first what it all meant," he added, placing a hand on Draco's leg. For as close as he'd gotten to Draco and as often as he touched the blonde, the idea of furthering their relationship had always been an afterthought. An idea he didn't dwell on since it seemed a forgone conclusion; it was always there even if the _when_ was never really focused on.

He smiled encouragingly up at Draco, surprised he felt pretty calm about things... He blinked a few times when Draco practically beamed at him. He liked seeing Draco smile, naturally, but he was distracted by the fingers gently tracing along his collarbone and down his chest. He hummed contentedly and relaxed into the kiss when the Veela pulled him close, slotting their mouths together in a heated press.

He briefly wondered if such wet, borderline _dirty_ , kisses were acceptable at this stage of their Bonding but he didn't really care. Not when Draco's hands fisted in his hair with just the perfect amount of pressure and he was pulled against a solid warm chest as the soft sensation of feathers surrounded them.

.|.

Harry tried to still the tremor in his hands as he reached for the velvet box. He couldn't wait to see the cuff but he wasn't sure if inspecting the item in front of the slightly sneering Goblin would be rude or not. After a pointed look from the Goblin and Narcissa, both encouraging that exact action in their own ways, he finally opened the box.

He gasped softly, eyes going wide as he reached a finger out and gently traced the edge of the Bonding cuff. It was exquisite—exactly like he'd imagined it would be but _better_ because it was real and expertly crafted. The elegant coloring, the simple lines, light sprinkling of gemstones and the engraved Veela symbols would look amazing on Draco. He felt a physical ache to see it proudly on his Veela's arm and he was tempted to apparate back immediately. He traced the smooth, cool lines of platinum almost reverently. He longed to feel it on Draco; warmed with their combined magic and the Veela's body heat.

"Thank you," Harry said, once he was reasonably sure he would be able to actually speak. He closed the box carefully and tucked it safely in his pocket. He leaned back a little, blinking with surprise when the Goblin almost appeared to smile and give a short nod.

"Many blessings on your union," the Goblin muttered in a heavily accented voice before hopping off his stool and disappearing in the back of the shop.

Narcissa gently took Harry's arm, recognizing the dismissal for what it was. "I'd ask about lunch but I'm sure you're anxious to get back to Draco." She smiled knowingly when Harry's cheeks pinked lightly, adjusting his glasses with a nervous gesture as he looked down. Harry gave a short nod, still flushed (most likely with equal parts embarrassment and pleasure) and she patted his arm. "I've arranged a casual luncheon at the Manor."

"Thank you," Harry said, trying to fight off the embarrassment that Draco's mum knew exactly where his thoughts were. _Oh Merlin_. Having been Mated to a Veela herself, she was aware of too much for his comfort. Thankfully, she didn't say anything else; she simply patted his arm again and apparated them from the shop. He stumbled a little as they landed in the grand foyer of Malfoy Manor. He was quick to right himself, and Narcissa, and patted at his robes self-consciously. "Sorry."

Narcissa chuckled softly, patting Harry's arm again. She wouldn't say it aloud, but she found Harry charming even when he was pink-cheeked and stumbling about. Harry's passionate personality and easy going nature were a few of the many things that made him perfect for her son; he brought out the best in her Draco. She tightened her hold on the wizard's arm when Harry went to draw away. "I've arranged for Teddy's room. Would you like to see it?"

Harry blinked, taken by surprise. This would be the first time Teddy would be staying at the manor overnight and he probably should have expected something like that to happen... but it was still a surprise. He nearly snorted at himself; it wasn't like Narcissa would stick a few blankets and a pillow on a chaise for overnight guests, especially one considered family. He nodded and Narcissa led the way, her arm still folded through his. He recognized the way there; Narcissa had placed Teddy's room in the family wing instead of one they used for guests or frequent visitors.

He waited for Narcissa to push open the door and it took quite a bit of effort not to gape like an idiot. The room was huge but somehow still cozy. There was a large four poster bed, huge even for an adult. But the bedding was definitely intended for a little boy. He smiled when he saw it was themed after one of Teddy's favorite Muggle cartoon films. There was even a pillow shaped like one of the main characters amongst the others on the bed.

"Do you think he'll like it?" Narcissa asked softly. Her gaze roamed the room critically, looking for anything out of place or that wouldn't please Teddy. She'd been sure to take a good look at Teddy's room at Harry's to ensure it would be appreciated. She didn't even mind the multitude of Muggle things, not since she'd watched quite a few films with Teddy. She'd had quite the time getting the house-elves to find a Muggle television set, though.

Harry had to clear his throat a few times before he could speak. "Yes, he'll love it. Thank you." He laughed, unable to help himself. It would probably be difficult to ever get Teddy out of this room, now that he thought about it. Between the toys and personal telly (along with a fully stocked shelf full of movies), he didn't think his little boy would ever willingly leave.

"No need to thank me, but you're welcome," Narcissa said, relieved and smiling as widely as she dared. She gently urged Harry down to the next door. "This is your room."

Harry blinked a few times, confused. "Oh." He didn't know what to say; he just assumed he'd share Draco's room. As if Narcissa could read his thoughts, she smirked at him and pushed the door open. The room wasn't as big as Teddy's room, but just as thoughtfully decorated and furnished. The neutral, natural tones of the walls and carpeting was surprising considering the Malfoys tended towards green and silver wherever possible.

He leaned past the doorway, getting a better look. It was cozy, really. If he hadn't gotten to know the Malfoys so well, he'd be surprised to use such a word for anything in their manor.

"I realize you'd probably prefer being close to Draco," Narcissa said lightly, waving a hand. "But there are times when even loving couples need their own space." She looked around the room before giving Harry her attention, silently asking for his input. There weren't many times she needed time away from Lucius, but she'd always been grateful she'd had a room to herself on those occasions. She'd rarely made use of the bed, having never been made enough to deny either of them the comfort of sleeping together, but the extensive library always eased her thoughts and simmered her raging emotions when they threatened to overwhelm her.

Harry nodded slowly. "I see. Thank you." He didn't think he'd need to use the room, but he was touched by the thought. And he did like it was next to Teddy's. There was even a connecting door. "Do you plan on me being here often?" he asked, smiling. He was teasing, of course, but Narcissa was giving him a very serious expression.

"Yes," Narcissa said simply. She knew her son would be leaving the Manor to be with Harry and while she understood it, it still left her feeling sad. The manor was too large for one person. She could only hope Harry would indulge her and visit frequently. And allow Teddy frequent visits, as well; the manor was always brighter with children in its halls.

"Alright," Harry said softly. He jumped a little when arms suddenly snaked around his waist, but he was already leaning into Draco's solid warmth before he was consciously aware of it. He smiled when he felt a kiss being pressed to the top of his head. It was one of the few times he actually enjoyed the height Draco had over him.

Draco eyed the room over Harry's head. He was aware his mother had the house-elves working on a room for Teddy, but this was too mature for a little boy. Naturally, the thought of Harry having a separate room wasn't exactly a happy one. He calmed the inner urge to snarl and refuse, but he wouldn't begrudge Harry his own space. His arms did tighten around Harry a little, though, so his urge to hiss 'mine' was appeased. He was glad Harry couldn't see him because he had the sneaking suspicion he was pouting...

"Thinking of spending some time alone?" he asked softly, lips brushing the shell of Harry's ear. He smirked to himself when he felt the slight shudder work through the wizard.

"No," Harry said with a soft snort, mostly so he wouldn't moan right there in the doorway. "Your mother was under the impression I'd need a Draco-free zone, so I just might end up doing so." He turned his head enough to look up at Draco, trying not to laugh at the pout on the Veela's face. The urge to kiss the pout off Draco's face was strong, but he didn't think he could control himself to a simple kiss and he didn't think Narcissa would appreciate such an enthusiastic display. "You're a right prat when you wanna be."

Draco merely hummed, knowing it was true but refusing to give Harry the satisfaction of hearing it confirmed aloud. He brushed his lips over Harry's temple, subtly scenting him as he tightened his hold on Harry. "Did your trip go well?" He smiled when he could feel Harry's reaction to the subject change.

"Yes," Harry said, sounding too breathless for standing perfectly still. He looked around and realized Narcissa had, at some point, left. He was alone with Draco. Alone and minutes away from presenting a Bonding cuff. Oh, Merlin... He turned, careful to keep himself in Draco's hold, and looked up. He was pretty sure the flush he felt in his entire body was visible because the Veela's expression was intense. He patted his pocket, "I've got it right here."

Draco's gaze went down, noticing a bulge in Harry's robes. It was quite surreal to realize he would be that much closer to being fully Bonded to Harry Potter; _his Mate_. Mere moments away... His eyes fluttered closed and he savored the feeling for a moment before opening his eyes and giving Harry his full attention once more. "Excellent," he murmured.

He wanted so much to lean down and push Harry against the doorjamb or further into the room to test the bed (and the look on his wizard's face made it clear he would offer no objections) but his mother was never lenient on time; she didn't abide tardiness. He did not want to risk being in any sort of compromising position when his mother came looking for them.

"In twenty minutes, you're mine."

Harry nodded, slightly wide-eyed and feeling that heated, breathless feeling again. He had a feeling he should complain about the possessive words and tone—he wasn't a thing to be _owned_ for Merlin's sake! But... No, he rather liked it if he was being completely honest with himself. Draco's grip on him had tightened but not painfully. The hitch in his breath had little to do with the tight hold.

"Yes," he managed to say aloud when it seemed like the Veela had been waiting for confirmation of some sort—consent possibly. He could see the blonde relax, as if he'd actually been waiting for rejection.

Which was ridiculous.

Draco nodded stiffly and slid his hands down to cover Harry's. He curled their clasped hands over his chest, taking a moment to just enjoy the closeness. Harry shifted closer and rest his cheek against his shoulder. He didn't even bother trying to override the urge to inhale deeply, memorizing the warm scent surrounding his senses. "Come on, then," he said after much too short a time. Harry leaned back and nodded, allowing himself to be lead through the halls and to the smallest ballroom for the intimate ceremony.

Harry felt the most curious sensation as they got closer to the small gathering; he felt lighter, almost giddy. He imagined the Bonding cuff in his pocket was giving off a warm glow and he slid a hand into his pocket, surprised to feel the warm velvet under his fingertips. "It's warm," he murmured, sounding dazed but extraordinarily pleased. He had a feeling it was a good thing.

"Yes." Draco looked at Harry from the corner of his eye. Harry's cheeks were lightly flushed and he was the picture of wonder... and pleasure. He paused, pulling Harry to a stop and pulling the wizard close again. He knew they were moments away from being sought out (from either a worried but determined house-elf or his amused mother) but he couldn't ignore the urge to feel Harry against him. He could feel the heat emanating off the Bonding cuff and it warmed him completely.

It was quite the sign of Harry's intent and devotion. It left him feeling positively exultant and breathless, truth be told.

Draco reluctantly pulled away, he didn't really wish to press their luck any further. He cupped Harry's cheek and placed a brief, chaste kiss on his lips before grabbing the wizard's hand once again and continuing on their way. He didn't pause until they were standing outside the massive double doors leading to the ballroom.

"Oh, Merlin," Harry breathed. Both hands were tightly clenched (one around Draco's hand and the other around the velvet box) with nerves. Until he was suddenly overcome as a heated rush of _something_ moved through his body as if in a wave. The murmuring from the other side of doors was suddenly as clear as if he was there, the previously muted conversations clear (Hermione was fussing over Teddy and Narcissa was directing a few house-elves through a few last minute preparations). Smell the food as if he was right in front of the treacle tart and baked chicken. He could feel each individual hair on the back of Draco's hand. And, curiously of all, he could see each pore in the wood grain of the door they were standing in front of.

He blinked a few times, disoriented and slightly nauseated, and the curious hypersensitivity dulled back to what he was used to. He nearly asked Draco if he felt the same thing, but he didn't. Draco looked patiently back at him, his hand flat against the door and only waiting for a signal to push and get things started. Harry nodded and they walked in.

Teddy was the first to see Harry-daddy and Mr. Draco. He smiled, cheeks full of cake, as they came in holding hands. Thankfully, Aunt Hermione saw them as well and finally stopped fussing with his neon green mohawk (like he was gonna change it now that he figured out how to do it?) and rushed over towards the doors. He waved when Harry-daddy noticed him, kicking his feet as he munched his cake.

.|.

Harry gently eased the cuff from the silky pillow and tossed the box aside, no longer caring about it now that he had the Bonding cuff out of it. He gently stroked along one smooth edge; it was exquisite and he couldn't wait to see it against Draco's skin. He looked up, feeling Draco's gaze on him and offered a shaky smile. "I'm fine," he said, seeing the question in the Veela's expression.

Draco nodded, satisfied. He knew Harry wouldn't lie, not about this. Harry still looked ready to vomit, or maybe pass out, but he was assuaged nonetheless. He could understand the nerves and heady feeling of anticipation, after all. A throat being cleared had him glancing to his mother. He saw Harry look as well, his head nodding a second later.

Harry wanted to fidget; he was nervous. Very aware of the other people in the room, watching with more than casual interest. They were far enough away for a semblance of privacy, though. Which he was grateful for as he lost the battle with his nerves and his body twitched, his hands fidgeting with the edge of the cuff. He was momentarily distracted by Draco's hand covering his. He looked up, feeling a little surprised, but grateful, to see the Veela looking nearly as affected as he felt. Even if Draco was trying his damnedest not to show it.

It was familiar enough to calm him, drawing a small smile to his face.

Well, calm him enough to finally lift the cuff towards Draco and start.

Draco watched as Harry took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders, lifting his head and gazing at him with a familiar look of fierce determination. It was rather endearing and, admittedly, a bit of a turn on. He didn't even have to think when he saw Harry lift the cuff, he was reaching out and holding the other side on instinct. The feeling upon contact was indescribable.

And about 5 times more intense than when he gave Harry his cuff. It was overwhelming, truth be told and he feared one (or both) of them might actually lose consciousness. He saw Harry grit his teeth, his face flushed and eyes bright. He saw the wizards lips moving, but he couldn't hear anything over the sound blood pounding in his ears. He tried to focus, though, knowing he needed to respond at some point. It felt like every emotion was raging inside him but he was reasonably confident none of it showed on his face.

Draco wasn't trying to hide his feelings, but he knew Harry would become flustered all over again otherwise. If all went well, he'd never have to worry about hiding them from his Harry again.

"—honor. Draco, I ask for your heart, magic, body and soul to be mine. Joined for life, in a mate's bond."

Draco blinked a few times, willing his body to behave as he looked at Harry. The wizard's flush had only intensified and now Harry was staring, those bright green eyes dilated and opened wide with anticipation as he gnawed on his bottom lip. Merlin... He was pretty sure he managed an audible 'yes' by the way Harry sagged with relief and beamed a smile at him. He let his hand be manipulated and Harry was carefully easing the cuff on.

There was a collective gasp from the small group when the cuff settled and their magic flared as one.

That... That was the moment Harry had dreaded and looked forward to in equal parts. A tingling, heated feeling—almost unpleasant in its intensity—worked through his body in a slick, dizzying wave. His chest, head and Bonding cuff seem to throb with heat and magic. He wobbled unsteadily, overwhelmed by the feeling. Draco lost his footing as well, at the same time, and he was relieved they wound up catching each other, leaning against the other like drunken idiots at the pub.

It was intense. Harry imagined he could feel Draco _inside_ him; swimming through his blood, pulsing along with his magical core. A full body shudder worked down his body and his eyes snapped closed with a groan.

"Fuck," he breathed, overcome and simply unable to articulate anything more profound. He watched Draco struggle for his self control and he realized he felt hot, throat suddenly dry and making a _click_ sound when he swallowed. He wasn't consciously aware of moving towards the Veela, didn't even know he was going to until they were pressed tight together from chest to knees, colliding almost violently.

Mouths slam together in a mess of tongues and teeth. Hands grab at hair and muscled flesh. Uninhibited moans drift out of them both.

Draco grunted, grabbing at Harry forcefully. Both in his urgent need to have him and so the wizard could feel his strength and not even _think_ about doing anything but submit. He needed to have his wizard. Complete their bond and fully own his mate. Harry went willingly, moaning into the skin of his neck and pressing closer, hitching a leg around the back of his thighs and squeezing. He should've expected that but he was still getting used to a Harry that didn't argue and fight him on principal.

They were half-way to the closest flat surface before his thoughts, somewhat, return rational once more. He remembered they've an audience and he growled lowly, suddenly unwilling for anyone but him to see Harry this way. Hands tighten in his hair and he made a growling trill sound of pleasure as pleasure-pain tingles along his scalp and neck. It almost distracted him, he let his sense be overrun with _Mate Harry_ and _Mine_ for a few moments before pulling away from Harry with a obscenely wet sound as their mouths disconnect.

"Mine," Draco growled lowly. He felt more than heard Harry's immediate agreement. He was soothed, able to dampen the surge of _need now_ that nearly rose up in the face of a possible challenge. There were others around and they needed to know Harry was his. He almost hated the instincts driving him and leaving him feeling almost helpless and out of control. But there was nothing for it; he had to grit his teeth and bare it, control his urges as best he could. He knew fighting it wouldn't help so he allowed himself to just... feel.

Plus, Harry wasn't in the least turned off or bothered by the displays, so that was another reason to not fight it. He crooned softly when a hand gently slid along his neck and into his hair, fingers kneading and massaging.

"They're gone," Harry said, getting the Veela's attention back. As much as he loved his family, he was glad they'd buggered off the moment they slammed together in a heated kiss. Especially now that Draco was making all sorts of noises and moments away from full-out displaying. He didn't know if it was the magic moments ago or the fact they were pressed closed and wrapped around each other. Not that he really cared for the why, just that it was likely to happen.

It was arousing as anything he could ever remember and he couldn't imagine being able to stop now that they've gotten started. He made a soft sound of surprised pleasure when there was a soft rustle of wings and feathers were obscuring his vision. He stared, fascinated as usual, and gently stroked along the top of one trembling wing. It flicked out, stretching fully to an impressive span. He made a soft, appreciative noise and he watched, fascinated and a little more turned on, as the wings quivered a little before raising. Arching high and stretching out as if to preen and show off. If he weren't stupidly aroused, he'd probably chuckle at the little display.

Harry went back to admiring the wings, no longer afraid to touch and well aware his open admiration was appreciated (if not expected, the smug git). He brushed his fingers along the downy under feathers, pleased to see Draco shiver and the wings fold forward once again, embracing him. He couldn't quite reach to touch anything but the tips of the largest feathers, but he could still admire the beautiful wings. The soft, smaller feathers along the top puffed out and he had an idea Draco was showing off again.

He wasn't used to seeing Draco act this way, most of his responses and movements seemingly driven by his Veela, but he liked it. He stroked along a wing, letting his fingers card through the longer feathers. He gasped with surprise when hands grabbed his arse, squeezing briefly before traveling down to the backs of his thighs. The pressure was a clear demand and he obediently allowed the Veela to manhandle him, lift him up and close, gripping him possessively. The groping was fine, as well.

Arguing or refusing never occurred to him. He smiled when Draco made a noise of satisfaction as they eased against each other. It was a sound of pure satisfaction; a trilling humming crooning sound that had his Bonding cuff warming gently and made him flush with pleasure for pleasing the Veela. It was oddly arousing. There was more groping (on both of their parts, though Draco had much better leverage to get a hand under Harry's robes) and hot, wet, open mouthed kisses that rapidly devolved into messy ones that were mostly tongues and panting into each other's mouths. He was pretty much just ravished as the Veela walked them over towards a chaise.

They fell together, Draco unwilling to part with his willing, warm, aroused Harry even for a moment. Draco was quick to Vanish their robes, tossing his wand haphazardly as soon as the fabric was out of the way. He groaned appreciatively, fingers twitching with the urge to touch and caress, when he found Harry completely bare underneath. "Lovely," he murmured and smirked, pleased at the thoughtfulness of his mate and the sight of a naked Harry. He hadn't thought Harry aware of wizarding customs. Most ceremonies involving magical bonding of any sort tended to cause energy excess, that was easiest to dispel sexually.

It just made sense to make the process as easy as possible once the ceremony was over; hence, easy-to-remove robes and no undergarments.

Draco hovered over a prone Harry. He felt satisfactorily predatory when Harry's skin pinked, his wizard blushing prettily under the scrutiny. The few occasions he'd seen his mate bare previously (and most were stolen glances, mere slivers and teasing flashes of skin as Harry dressed for bed) paled in comparison to now and he licked his lips, unable to help himself. Harry's hands slid down his back and he was done for, he couldn't hold himself back another moment. Harry's legs spread enough to accommodate him and he groaned as their bodies slotted together.

Draco gazed down at Harry, marveling at the pliant, aroused wizard. He nearly smirked when he realized this was how things were going to be. _This_ was their bound to be their dynamic. Not that he cared—as long as Harry touched him (and,of course, let Draco touch all he wanted in return), responded with that strength and passion, he had no preferences _how_ it happened. As far as he was concerned, as long as there was pleasure, he would go with it. But, all the same, he did enjoy knowing he had a submissive Mate. He ran a hand down Harry's side, noting which spots made Harry's breath hitch, his eyes roll back as he moaned, his body arch up as he sought more.

He really liked Harry pliant and submissive and he was nearly overcome with the possibilities.

So much so, Draco was nearly thrown off the chaise when Harry moved, a twisting sinuous move that had them switching their positions. Once he settled, and didn't wind up on his arse, he found that he didn't mind the change. He could gaze up at Harry just as readily as he could down. He was curious what Harry had in mind, though, barely a breath leaving him as he waited for Harry to do something. He was well aware of his Mate's impetuousness and he could only imagine what Harry would do.

"Bloody fucking yes," he hissed when Harry was quick to straddle his thighs, aligned their hips and wrapped a hand around both of their pricks.

He nearly batted Harry's hand away—his was bigger, after all—but he didn't. He settled for touching Harry elsewhere; marveling at the strong muscles Harry seemed to have hidden. He slid his hands up lithe thighs, the slight tickle of coarse hair under his palms oddly arousing. He palmed Harry's arse, moaning unashamedly as he did. He wanted to touch more, explore more of his wizards delectable arse, but he was distracted. He tilted his head back and enjoyed the twin sensations of Harry's hand and prick pressing and moving against him in a hot, slick-sticky slide.

He hissed between his teeth as the sharp punch of pleasure Harry elicited with a squeeze of those thighs and his hand. It was almost embarrassingly how quickly he came to the edge; between how long he'd been on edge just being _close_ to Harry today and the excessive amounts of magical energy sparking through him, it wasn't going to be long.

A look up at Harry let him know he wasn't the only one. He stared, nearly distracted from his own pleasure as he gazed up at his Mate in wonderment and adoration. Harry was a sight to cherish; his skin flushed all over, a light sheen of sweat making him nearly shine. Those lovely lips shiny and pinked from being bitten (both by himself and Harry). Harry's darkened eyes heavily lidded and gazing back at him in a way that felt like he was set on fire from within. Muscles flexing and moving with a languid sort of fluidity that was entrancing. He slowly wrapped a hand around Harry's, their fingers slotting together.

Harry groaned, head falling back, the sheer amount of energy and pleasure nearly overwhelming. Draco was anything but passive under him and it felt brilliant. He felt his Bonding cuff heat, the sensation impossibly adding to the pleasure coursing through his body in heated waves. Draco's other hand was busy as well, sliding up his chest and palming his pebbled nipples. His free hand shot out and grabbed Draco's arm, right above his Bonding cuff, needing something to hold onto.

"Bloody hell, Harry," Draco moaned, eyes rolling back as a searing wave of pleasure washed over him from the touch. He twitched, his toes curling and back bowing slightly as he came. He felt a flair of triumph and pride when Harry was right behind him, sticky heat splashing on his prick and belly. He relaxed into the cushions, watching as Harry relaxed with his eyes still closed. He wished Harry would flop forward, but he was quite content with the way Harry was leaning back on his thighs, his body still trembling a little in aftershocks.

Draco gazed at the huge mess on Harry's abdomen and cock, their combined come coating him in a very pleasing way. It was quite affective in marking what was his... Harry positively _reeked_ of him, in an intimate way, and he hummed with smug contentment.

Harry moved to clean the mess off his belly, slightly disgusted now that it was cooling and growing tacky. He looked up when Draco's hand wrapped around his wrist, halting his movements. He let his hand drop away without comment, going willingly enough when Draco sat up and eased him onto his back. The Veela looked positively radiant at the moment, practically humming with contentment and a smug sense of possessiveness. He was too sated to really care if Draco was a little too pleased with himself; he'd kind of earned it.

He raised an eyebrow when Draco bent closer and dragged two fingers through the mess on his stomach, smearing it around and rubbing it in a little. He watched, a returning feeling of lust trickling back in when Draco lifted and swung his long legs in a graceful move so he was straddling Harry, and slid down his body until he was level with Harry's prick. He watched, breath stuttering when Draco peered up at him, winked and then lowered his head and _licked_.

Harry groaned, fingers digging into the cushion under him as Draco proceeded to lick away the entire mess on his belly and thighs. The erratic pattern of lazy laps, kitten licks and long, drawn out drags of a slightly-rough tongue was maddening. He almost wished the renewed tingle of arousal would go somewhere as he watched Draco nuzzle and lap at the base of his cock, eyes closing slowly as if in bliss.

Draco hummed softly to himself as he worked, content with his task. He needed to keep his scent on his wizard. Since he knew Harry wouldn't want to walk around with his drying spunk all over his crotch (shame, that but understandable), this was the next best option as far as he saw it. And it wasn't as bad as he expected; Harry was making soft noised each time he drew his tongue along warm, soft skin.

Harry watched, transfixed by Draco. He didn't know whether to watch Draco's bum as it wiggled and swayed about whilst he worked, the blonde's tongue as it lapped at him in ever changing patterns, Draco's wings as they fluttered with every move or sound the Veela made or those damned steely eyes that kept meeting his with heated looks and filthy promises. He also didn't know whether to be amused, exasperated or completely turned-on when he realized the blonde was already half-hard again because he could feel it dragging wetly along his inner thigh.

He groaned softly again—Bloody Veela stamina; it was probably going to be the end of him one day. But at this particular moment, he couldn't be arsed to care.

Draco flapped and folded his wings up, preparing to will them away. He paused when Harry reached up and caressed one, gazing at the bright feathers with awe and... well. Lust. He let his wing relax again and actually preened, enjoying his Mate's attention and adoration, and allowed Harry to touch them again. While it wasn't exactly common to have one's Mate interested in the wings _after_ a Mating (well, a bloody fantastic hand-job), he wasn't going to deny Harry. He brought the wing closer, using the longest feathers to flick and stroke along Harry's peaked nipple. He smirked at the sharply indrawn breath, the way Harry arches upwards just a bit. His mate was so wonderfully responsive and he looked forward to exploring that thoroughly.

They both jump at the squeaky, high pitched "Masters?".

Draco nearly rolled his eyes when Harry made a similar squeaking sound and tried to hide. Modesty, in front of house-elves? It was endearingly ridiculous. He accommodated his wizard because he knew Harry had a marked lack of experience and exposure to the helpful creatures. He shifted enough to ensure Harry's bits were covered before turning towards the house-elf.

"Yes?"

"Mistress is wanting yous to come to the ball room."

It was then that Draco noticed another house-elf—Bimmy—popping out with the last tray of food. He must've been quite distracted if he hadn't noticed house-elves popping in and out as they retrieved trays and platters of food. Not surprising, really.

"Of course," Draco said with a short nod. "Five minutes," he said dismissively, turning his attention back to Harry. He wasn't normally so brusque with the house-elves, but he had an embarrassed Mate to see to and that took precedent over 'please' and 'thank you's to house-elves.

The house-elf nodded, relief clear in its large expressive eyes to be the bearer of good news. "Lucky be telling Mistress!"

Draco chuckled once the house-elf popped out and reluctantly eased off of Harry. He'd much rather stay on the chaise, cuddled warm and close with his wizard. But his mother's patience and understanding would only extend so far. He looked around for something to wear, catching Harry's mildly bemused expression. "Fancies himself a leprechaun," he murmured in explanation when he realized what caused it. Harry just stared back, looking dazed.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, mainly because he rather liked that bliss-addled expression that lingered on his wizard. He gently pulled Harry to his feet, cradling his face between his palms and kissing him lazily, lovingly, once Harry was steady. He smiled a little when Harry blinked slowly, smiling dozily and looking like he was still reeling from the effects of a strong cheering charm. Or maybe a half-bottle of firewhiskey. He chuckled and pecked another kiss on slightly parted lips, easily dodging Harry's lazy attempts to grab at him.

Draco conjured a set of semi-formal dress robes from a discarded pillow and took the liberty in dressing his wizard. Harry, looking amused and more than a little smitten, allowed it; working with Draco instead of arguing or complaining about being back in robes or being dressed like a child. He wasn't sure if Harry could sense his need to do it or he was just that useless after a decent orgasm.

Either way, Draco wasn't complaining.

He ran his hands down Harry's chest, smoothing the fabric of imaginary wrinkles and shamelessly coping a feel of firm chest muscles. Harry just stood there, smiling dopily still and leaned into the touch with a happy little sound that hummed in the back of his throat. He huffed with amusement and stood back so he could shrug into his own robes. Once he was set to rights, it didn't take much maneuvering to get Harry's arm folded through his and he lead the wizard out of the room.

Draco idly hoped Harry snapped back into a more lucid state soon... He rather liked having such an effect on the wizard, but they'd need to be around others soon and he was quite sure Harry would be embarrassed later. He led them to the ball room, pleased to note Harry was slowly becoming more aware as they got closer. He paused in front of the doors again, taking a deep breath before pushing through the doors.

One part of the Bonding rite down, two more to go.


End file.
